I really was going to write this over the weekend, but Saturday morning I was pulling on my socks and I managed to rip my right index fingernail off, halfway down. It bled and hurt. Alot. So much I cried when I had to get a new bandaid. Hello? Band-Aid brand? Whatever happened to the no-stick pad? Cuz it stuck and naked nail bed hurts. Really badly!!
So I really can’t use that finger much, which makes it hard to type and really interferes with my computer games household chores. But I’m here now, hurty finger and all, making about 12 typing errors per sentence, but here it goes…
One of the most striking things about our new home was the view. All the people that traipsed in and out of our since we moved in, the locksmith, carpet cleaner, movers, furniture repair guys…all of them commented about the view. Of all the windows that face the back yard, only the bathroom and bedroom had window treatments. It was just too beautiful to block.
Well, the city, in its infinite wisdom decided that the dry creek behind us needed to be cleared of the trees. Something about improving drainage and delaying erosion. I’m thinking that tree roots help with erosion, but then again, I’m not in the Army Corps of Engineers.
Now our backyard view is pitiful. It’s like mighty Samson, shorned, betrayed, weakened and blind. It hurts to look at. It hurts to know that this view, this one thing was our home’s crowning glory. It hurts that it will never, ever look the same again.
Here it is now. Make sure you click to make the picture bigger so you can truly appreciate the horror.
I know, I know. I think the drainage pipe is a nice touch, don’t you? Reminds me of the L.A. River.
I know they are just trees. I know that in the grand scheme of life, this isn’t that important. But I loved those trees. Looking out our windows brought me such joy. Sitting on the deck, listening to the wind through the aspens, spying the deer walk along our fence, getting a snack – this is exactly what I thought of when I thought of Colorado. Even though we were moving to a big city, being surrounded by such Coloradoness was the unspoken dream of my heart. And I wanted aspens. Imagine my joy at finding all that I wanted.
So my heart broke last week, listening to the chain saws and mulcher turning my trees into wood chips. I’ll admit it, I cried. As I sat in the office window one night and could see my across the creek neighbors, I realized we would need curtains. I’ll never be able to sit outside with my coffee and enjoy the beauty of nature.
It’s tough, accepting the things you can’t change, losing the things you love so much. I’m sure there is a lesson here, but I don’t really want to know what it is right now. I’m such an Eeyore anyway, always sad about something and now I’m mourning my trees.