We are cutting down trees today.
My heart is hammering and I feel sick.
I love trees, but unfortunately the person who planted these trees didn’t think before they planted. One is under the powerlines. One hovers over the power and phone lines into the house. One is right up against a window.
So they have to go. But I hate doing it. I hate destroying something so beautiful.
I console myself with the thought that as soon as they are gone I will plant more, in the right place this time. Trees carefully chosen for height and shape and location. Trees that will glow with beauty, attract birds and bees, form a shelter for fauna and privacy for us.
I console myself with this and try not to cry while the trees come down.
Okay, so maybe I cried a bit.
But they had to come down. Sometimes you make hard decisions, and then you grieve, and then you pick yourself up and move forward.
In life, and in writing.
Not Enough Words 