TREE TRAGEDY

Denial is the greatest place on earth to live, but recently I've had to leave the happy la-la land. I've always looked at the fact that the back of our house faces the freeway to be a good thing. The first time it was a good thing was when I bought the house. It sat on the market for months, and I suspect that some people were put off by the traffic a few hundred yards away.

However, I viewed it as the opportunity to have a nice green space with trees and no neighbors behind me. As a house warming gift, Gram gave me landscaping. Those two trees and 4 bushes were the best gift ever. As the seasons would pass, nothing would thrill me more than to watch them grow and watch the freeway disappear. I thought life would continue to be perfect forever.

All was well in the Land of Denial until I started noticing suspicious construction materials being deposited on the land behind the fence. I was certain that if there actually was any construction, it would just mesh with the beautiful, beautiful trees that were already there. To my HORROR, I noticed one day that instead of tall trees waving in the wind, there were only trees laying in a pile.

The only thing that kept me from tears that day was the fact that there was one tall, sexy supple tree that was directly behind our house still standing in all its glory. There were a few others, but this one was a tree to behold. I'd check every day to make sure that tree was there. After several weeks, I was willing to dismiss the innocent killing of all the other trees because I still had *MY* tree. My beautiful tree that I would check on each and every day. It brought a smile to my face to return home and see its shimmering leaves.

Such a happy, peaceful Saturday until I heard this banging noise. It's my neighbor, right? No need to check it out. I don't want to know where that clanging is coming from. I can't resist any longer and I peek over the fence to see the remaining smaller tree shaking violently. With each clang and bang, I see the tree fall a little further. I turn away and can't watch the tree murder anymore. It's just those little trees, I'm sure they don't dare touch *MY* tree. I must leave the house before I commit an arrestable offense.

I return home and H greets me at the door. I can tell by the look on his face something is wrong. I know it's *MY* tree. There are no words of solace to be spoken, and I can only reach for my camera to capture the senselessness of the death of a tree. I didn't even get to say good-bye. They had already hauled *MY* tree off to a pile of disgrace. A sad, sad day.

GOOD NEWS OF THE DAY: We will be planting new tree and bushes.