Thursday, June 13, 2013
When a tree falls
I was up early as usual this morning, greeted by rumbling, dark skies that opened into a downpour so dense I couldn't even see the street in front of our house. I postponed walking out to pick up the newspaper, something that rarely happens even on subzero, snow-covered winter mornings. It was bad out there.
About an hour later, there was banging on our front door. Our neighborhood watchdog stood on the porch, pointing up and exclaiming, "You have a new friend up there!" I thought maybe we had a bird's nest in our rain gutter. But it was a tree...on our roof. A large limb from our neighbor's tree had splintered right off and fell onto our roof. I couldn't believe I never heard it. Last fall, on another morning bright and early, our neighbor on the other side came knocking to ask what happened to my car which was wearing a flower pot, on its smashed windshield. We never heard that one either. Apparently in our home, it is always a peaceful world.
We made our calls today. One to the tree surgeon, one to our insurance company, and one to our contractor. Tomorrow a crane will lift this tree off the roof which will then be inspected for damage (it looks okay from the attic looking up), and hopefully, the front of our home will be returned to its typical tranquility.
When I think of tornadoes in Oklahoma, fires in Colorado, floods, hurricanes, and devastation visiting other places and parts of our world, a tree branch resting rather gently on our rooftop is not such a big deal. Just a little morning excitement in this quiet neighborhood.