Goodbye, old willow friend

April 2010

Here when we moved in 19 years ago, the weeping willow has been a constant source of pleasure, a backdrop to our lives, a graceful hanging canopy that defined our yard and partly sheltered it from view.
  
She was a towering queen among trees. Her graceful low hanging branches were a joy and a temptation to little ones who played at her feet. They tugged and pulled and tried to swing from her tender tendrils, which broke off and littered the grass much to Jeff's dismay.  


Ozzie, and Smokey before him, would scoot up the willow and gingerly move around like a tightrope walker, stepping from limb to limb with caution and ease, then slyly peeking out like a wild cat on a secret mission. 


On Thursday, Jeff announced the willow must come down. By Friday, it was gone. Diseased from age and weakened by lightning, the once glorious tree still appeared healthy on the surface, but was suffering on the inside. Down she came - a swift exit that made me sigh and think about the past. My kids played in her shadow, sat in her shade, walked by on their way to Elm School and back home again. 


Jeff and Nick understand why trees must come down. Katie and I not so much. It's partly about the privacy, partly about the shade and partly about a familiar sight that can never be replaced. It's mostly about the passing of time, moving on and moving out to broader horizons beyond Meadowbrook Lane. 

Before the fall 

The new view