The place I always mention in the fall. THREE beautiful trees that turn red before any of the others. They line the sidewalk in front of the “cottage house,” slurring a motion blur of RED against green and amber leaves that are falling to the ground. They even had a wood-carved bear on the lawn, who stood on two feet between the shadows of the perfectly planted trees, standing in direct view of every single driver heading eastbound on Lakeshore Road. But the new owner, he took him down.
I’d often wondered who owned that house. This, that, their…. oh you know, It was a cabin; in Our town. Yes, the same one filled with pocket lighting and a million and one landscaping companies.
This place was an escape, before it was a place to escape from.
I have nothing planned now.
The tightness of my neck and back are signs of what’s to come. I’ll need some readjusting and I hope you find this fine, because I’ll tell you not a lot of people understand what it means to be in line to be fast-tracked.
If I look back. More so often than before – the whole vault of time I was given, was blessed. A better solution than to “throw some money at it…”
(I always hated keeping score, maybe that’s my final flaw, to have the gall to think I’m the only one who hated competing). But that and these THREE trees came before I even existed – so who am I to make the call? Well that’s exactly what I’m learning, that I am, and flagrantly will always be, wanting more.
NO – this is not the time for me to be frozen. I know that paralysis – hell fucking sakes – all – too – well.
Quipped details beg to be treated, and better yet, someones trusted opinion, begs to be tested. So who do I trust even at all?????
If ya don’t bloody have it, and spread it – then who are you at all?
With caution – proceed – to ALIGN, and PLAN, for LONGEVITY.
That ghost that haunts you just when you are trying to get to sleep. The word that stirs some heat into your world, and that on-the-spot can make you weep.
Nobody is a stranger to tears, no matter who says the opposite. Whoever planted these trees, the THREE that stand like choir singers who float above the rest. Thank you. Your colour blocking statement preaches foresight in the most fundamental way. The subtlety not lost, the sentiment not gone away. I only hope that whoever moved into that house, or cabin, or escape, will be appreciative of their legacy.
Three trees – turn red before the rest.