All that's left London, ON May 2022 This photo originally shared on Instagram |
And by virtue of the crowds of dog owners and fitness walkers who gathered on either side of the path it ended up blocking, many people heard it.
It was felled by a derecho, a fast-moving line of intense storms that covered a wide swath of Ontario and Quebec yesterday afternoon. At least five people were killed by the storms that spawned winds up to 120 km/h and left extensive damage in their wake.
It’s yet another example of how powerless we can feel amid forces that can change lives in an instant. And a reminder of how lucky we are to have escaped the worst, that we have the ability to clean up and move on.
Yet on this morning, I felt the need to somehow remember this craggy old tree I had walked past and admired so many times over the years.
As it lay in shattered ruins on the ground, shards of splintered wood scattered around it as if a bomb had gone off, I traced my hand along the knotty bark. This particular spot once towered at least 15 feet over my head, and I always thought it looked a bit like my dog’s head.
It’ll take generations to fill the now-open stretch of sky. The least I could do was try to remember what was once there, and soon will no longer be.
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Related:
A face in the bark, January 2022
Barking up the right tree, May 2021
The not-so-dead tree stump, January 2021
More warts. More wonder, November 2020
Visiting the Wart Tree, October 2020
Craggy bark deep in the woods, November 2017
History written in a tree trunk, October 2017
Aged wood, August 2006
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