Every Fall, or what passes for Fall in the Deep South, we pick up beautiful pinecones from the yard.
When the children were little, we practiced serving pinecones with a tennis raquet into the giant azalea bushes. If golf was the sport of the moment, we drove the pinecones with a nine iron. The azalea bushes never seemed to mind being the dump for dozens of large pinecones.
Today I picked up the last crop of pinecones. I used the old lady grabbing tool sold by my neighborhood hardware store. The grabber is the tool of choice of all my antique neighbors for picking up anything they don't want to bend over to grasp. It's fun to use.
My trees are gone with a few scrawny exceptions whose pine cone producing days may never come.
Arrgghhhhhhhhhh All I ever blog about is loss! Oh, rats and double rats! Oh, my dear messy pinetrees gone to the street for the debris trucks!
4 comments:
You aren't just losing your source of pinecones, you are losing your connection to those memories. I can understand the need to blog about loss....
Like the widow who longs for her husband's snoring. You have lost and so have your neighbors. So that the rest of us who didn't see, hear or experience it can understand, please continue writing.
You will blog again about something other than loss. It will take time. Your writing has been helpful to me.
You know, who does not love a clear blue sky with fluufy white clouds? And yet, pre-Katrina and pre-Rita, those skies were dappled with the branches of trees, and the shade was cooling and restful.
God bless you and the others in your community as they continue to mourn.
I love your honesty here St C
about the pinecones - I'm reminded that they contain seeds - for new life, new growth - but it takes time, and being broken and someone watering too.
take it part of a day at a time.
You've lost a lost - but God is a master rebuilder and you are in His loving hands.
be blessed :)
Post a Comment