LAMENT FOR A TREE
There is an empty lot in our neighborhood that is now much emptier.
Located at the end of our street, the vacant lot was almost park-like because of the large, oak tree that grew close to the edge of the canal–overlooking the water. The property must have always been “undeveloped”–at least since the neighborhood and canal were built–as the oak tree seemed too large and old to have ever shared the space with a dwelling.
I never enjoyed the shade of that tree. I never sat and looked up at the epiphytes living within its branches or looked down at the ants crawling over its roots. I never got closer than admiring it while walking, running, biking or driving by. But, there were few times in passing that I did not notice–and admire–the grand old tree and smile.
Today that tree came down in a crashing collapse of branches fracturing on the hard ground–shockwaves coursing through the streets–mighty limbs dismembered by chainsaws and deep roots ripped from the ground by a backhoe.
The vacant lot will likely be developed–soon. It is private property after all and the position and size of the tree made the placement of a house (particularly since the norm is really too overbearing for any waterfront lot) impossible.
Regardless of how the lot is filled, that space (and the neighborhood) will always be a little bit emptier without that magnificent tree.
Kip Koelsch Author 
It was awful and so unexpected. The lot has been undeveloped for 50 years. Now they are prepping it for building. I understand the landowners selling or developing, but it’s so sad that tree couldn’t be accommodated.
I was moved by the realization that such a majestic living thing was ceasing to exist–and there was no fanfare, no celebration of life and possibly my little blog post its only remembrance.