What was a 150-year-old maple, a tired and rotting maple, between this property and the next is now no more. The copious leaves it dropped in fall, the shade it provided in winter, the bits and chunks and branches that fell off as it rotted from within, the tender greenery with which it greeted the springtime sun ... gone.
I had talked to my neighbor on whose property it stood, told him I was afraid of the expenses that might arise if one of those branches landed on a car here. And he heard me, but seemed not to be worried about it much ... sort of like a person who issues soothing words and then, because it's not really his problem, neglects to do anything. Tough-shit for you.
But then, today, several large trucks, one bearing a cherry-picker, and three young men in hard hats showed up and took it down. Now, where it once stood, there is what seems like an immense amount of light and space. I can't stop looking at it even though there is no 'it' to look at. I feel as if I had had a wisdom tooth removed and my tongue just couldn't stop feeling the emptiness that was once full.
I had wanted the tree to go and was glad the dangers I imagined it posed were no more ... BUT ... something was missing and as with all things missing, I missed it.