Inside the Willow Tree

You might be surprised at what you'd find inside an old willow tree that finally gives up, one day in the wind, when the only branches it has left collapse into the rose bushes, like an old man who lays down one last time to take a whiff of the roses before he dies. It was a good smell, I noticed, as I cut away the branches, lopped the trunk into sections I could handle with the wheel barrow. There was mint in the garden, a smell of fresh soil like a new grave. I draped the willow branches over the pickup truck until it looked like a haystack had fallen into the bed. I looked at the trunk still standing and it too looked weary enough to fall, so I leaned into it hard until it moaned, and I leaned again, and one more time I leaned and it let out a kind of whoosh as it fell and the rotten center scattered, the pieces full of holes the bugs had made. Soft inside like a soggy tree-bed, it wasn't a tree at all, it seemed, but a standing sponge with bark on it, its center gone and filled with what seemed to be the richest soil on earth. I thought of Queequeg reaching into the head of the whale for its ambergris as I lifted handfuls out and tossed them to the roses. My back sore and enough of the tree gone so I could quit, I returned to take these pictures as the setting sun lit the lilacs, now on their last legs of the year.

The Work, the Work, the Working Life

Springsteen chronicles the working life, but it's something a little less metropolitan and even less industrial that I have in mind, as I describe the work I did today, getting rid of the last remnants of the old willow tree and making some long-delayed progress on the "beverage room" in the new house. Compare, if you will, the previous photo of the fallen willow, with the one here, where little remains, the area marked by the lack of grass alone. In my second photo, a happy clown marks the spot where a tiny lilac bush had already volunteered to replace the fading willow.

Meanwhile, it appeared that some volunteer lilac bushes were appearing in the rose gardens, so those volunteers have been recruited for service along the perimeter between us and the house to the west. As I write, those volunteers are being supplied with ample water supplies, along with the nourishment I supplied.

Secondly, the second and third photos show the room that's been under construction since almost the first day we arrived, and now the nail holes are full and the whole has been primed for a new paint, texture, or whatever remains for it. On Wednesday, English majors from DSU will arrive and have a chance to look things over, so they'll see some work done, not knowing what things looked like when we arrived. They'll look better yet, as texture and paint awaits.

Willow Falls

We've been wondering what to call our big new house, and we've been using the name August House, since we moved in here in August and we kind of like the sound of it, but today the wind came up and made me wonder whether a new name was in order--Willow Falls.

The big willow tree in the back yard, an old timer more than a yard across, went down today, probably when the big wind came up over noon hour and switched directions. But it could have been any time, and it was due. The wife wasn't expecting anything like this when she arrived home this afternoon, and she called me to tell me the news. When I got home it was just as you see it here, keeled over and fallen into the rose bushes. That's how things lie in the back yard. I'll probably cut most of it out of there tomorrow.

The poor old thing didn't have much going for it any more. The wood the fall exposed was soft as sponges, and only about six inches of the trunk appears to have been alive. When I haul things out of there tomorrow, much of it just as well be hauled off with a scoop shovel it's so soft. But still heavy. I'm glad it didn't fall the other way.

I write this now at the end of the Ken Burns series on The War, on PBS. We watched much of it, though other things lie pressing for attention. The last episode saw the end come for the Germans and the Japanese armies both. Like the wind in our our tree, the impact of war had eaten away the strength of the two opposing armies, and there was nothing much left standing, so when the armies came pressing in, at some point the whole thing came down and brought an end to conflict.

New Back Yard

Several days of effort have resulted in a new look for the back yard.  The dedicated rose gardens are gone, though most of the rose bushes are thriving in their new spots further north in the yard.  We took up the sod from the north side, where the old willow fell, and moved it to where the angular gardent was.  We took out two of the biggest, oldest apple trees; it was sad to see them go.  We've got one struggling survivor replacement apple tree from last year still hanging in there, and one new Honey Crisp sapling to augment our apple situation.  

Several of the lilacs I planted last summer along the east side are blooming this year, an amazing thing to me.  Today the lilacs are beginning to fade, but as you can see in the slide show here, the yard is looking healthy!  

Happy Memorial Day!  

Back on the Horse

Nearly a week's worth of events have happened in the last week, so it's time for something to be said about the past six days. Friday night some friends used up, and Saturday the bathroom floor, the basement stairs, and the back door landing utilized the time, and that night we partook in an event that I'd tried twenty five years ago to do and finally got it done.
Despite the nasty thunderstorms that came through the area, I took off down to SF where the wife and her mom spent the day shopping and met up at the Washington Pavillion to see a band I'd wanted to see but failed to for years, the Red Willow Band, the best in western swing. They were just what I'd wanted. From the opening strains of Kenny Putnam fiddling on "Tying the Knot" to the late rendition of "Very Old Friend," I was a happy listener. Two new fans of RWB joined us, only to be disappointed to learn that this band had disbanded more than twenty years ago. They've still got a good fan base in the area, as the very full Pavillion demonstrated, and Monday night the concert being filmed for SD Public TV sold out. Every few years they get together for a reunion concert or two, and they were invited to play at the Vietnam Memorial in Pierre this year.

On another note, we had great company the past few days from Waynesville, NC, CB and RB. They were our hosts last summer down there and we were happy to have them here if only for a couple of days. What gentle, wonderful people. C was able to join us briefly for my last discussion of Marilynne Robinson's Gilead here in Madison, where 28 people showed up.
Now it's Wednesday, our company is gone, and life is once again back to normal.

Maybe this weekend will be a bit more quiet.