July 12, 2017
As I write, arborists are dismantling the great sweet gum at 62, in whose shade I lived for 24 years. I went to snap a few pictures, but sadness overcame me. There is no single way in which the property will not be better for the loss of that monstrosity, and yet, turning my back and walking home, I could barely endure it. Bereavement is not rational. I’ll let it go at that.
3 PM: re the above, astonishing hole in the tree line to the west.