My oak in front is doing well. Split in half, and reconnected, it now displays full leaves of green. My cedar in back is not doing as well. I was least worried about it when the cutting ended. Only a few branches were twisted, some gashes in the side. I scraped on some tree sealer and moved to more damaged saplings. It is now the most sickly, branches droop, pale instead of bright green, some brown. I’ve taken to watering it, I shall do so more regularly. We’re in a drought up here, not supposed to water anything. I’ll break the rules, for if it grows it shall be such a well placed tree.
The evening is cool, my breath billows out. I notice the fir tree, once hidden by the cedar next to my window reaching out its light green shoots. The firs have blossomed with the pines gone, making a strong case that this shall be a fir forest. The cedars all look thirsty, the firs look eager.
This day ends. Thoughts again tease and run away before I can catch and document them. I sit and stare at my floor, trying to recover my intended topic. Ah, well… they seem to be gone. They usually try to come back in the morning.