Wednesday, January 30, 2013

The Present: 01.30.13

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The Present: 01.30.13

Awoke this morning to find the whole yard covered in a thick fog. I recall seeing fog like this a handful of times in all the years I lived in Buffalo, yet this is the second time in a few weeks I've seen it here in North Haven. Zelda, the dog doesn't notice, as she pokes her nose in the underbrush beneath the trees surrounding our property.

They're mostly pine trees, but we also have a couple of cherry trees and a big sycamore about ten feet from the house with a wide, bulbous trunk. One of the limbs snapped off in the storm last fall, just before we moved in. The tree people didn't get around to lopping off the rest, so it still has a sharp,  ragged end. A couple of the longer branches extend over the roof, enough to do a little damage in a storm.

It's the pines on the other side of the house that are most worrisome though. There are five or six of them, each about a seventy-five to a hundred feet tall, within ten feet of our living room. If any one of them came down in it could do some serious damage. We think about these things.

The pines leave millions of rust-colored needles around the yard. Our dog has a fenced in area that extends from the living room to the back of the house. The needles for a blanket over all of the growth back there: a little grass, some ivy up near the house, all of it covered in needles. Zelda sometimes sticks her nose beneath the cover to sniff out the earth.

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