Tree-Hugger. I never fully realized it until just last week, when I came "home" to a sight I wasn't expecting.
We cannot figure out why the trees had to go. The property must have been sold, or the neighbours are going to add more fill, like they did last year. Good money to be made in fill. This fill pit sits just above the front pond on our property, which means the pond will fill up quickly with even more silt and unknown runoff...
But hey, it was just a scrub stand of old willows, right? Doesn't hold the dirt around the culverts, nah, 'course not...Water-courses are for nerds.
Remember this scene? It's from a short few years ago. Déja vu, that's my life.
I can now see to the road, when I look north-west. Never could, before. Ever. Gone is the feeling of being on an island. I had a flock of small birds scold me soundly on our walk up the driveway. I understand their ire and dismay. Where the hell are they supposed to perch now? They even cut down an old small birch tree, one that had split into three, that had doggedly survived all these years. Why is it that when men look at trees, they want them to die? All of the trees cut have been chipped, and thrown back for mulch. Easier for the farmer. Except, the farm two parcels south of us is now up for sale.
103 acres, "future development site". Closer and closer, the city inches towards me.
I'm kinda glad we're moving, now. This place has broken my heart enough. I sang a song to this place and it's wildlife and farmed life, as I walked on Friday. A chickadee's early spring call made my voice sing back my sadness and loss. Chickadee followed me all along our tree-wind break, which still abound on "our" little parcel. For how much longer?
A heartbeat.
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