Today, I am so grateful for all the trees in my neighborhood.
They are magnificent, majestic.
I am grateful for the way they catch the afternoon light. And the way they sketch themselves against the sky.
I love how trees provide shade when the air is heavy and still. And I love the way they rustle when the air is chill and restless.
Our neighborhood trees provide shelter for birds. They produce fruit for whoever gets to it first (around here, that's squirrels and humans, mostly). Some local trees even smell like the sweetest honey in the early evening through the early morning:
This past week, my neighborhood's trees have taken quite a beating:
Last Sunday, it rained prodigious amounts. The official amount, measured near downtown Los Angeles, was over 2 inches in a 24-hour period. (That alone is remarkable for L.A., where the average annual rainfall is only about 12 inches.) But in our neck of the woods on Sunday, rain gauges clocked in at a whopping 6.6 inches!
And the wind was horrible, too.
All the rain make trees top-heavy, and sometimes all it takes is one good gust of wind to knock a soggy tree right over:
Here, Mu Shu moves in to see the damage up close:
All over my little pocket of Ozzy-and-Harrietland, I saw trees down:
Ouch! This poor PT Cruiser took it on the nose:
A shame; the tree was just beginning to break into blossoms:
Yet another tree down:
And another car beaten up:
The weight of this mighty trunk has torqued the car's wheel and flattened the tire:
After the rain's fury passed, all over the neighborhood you could hear the sound of buzz saws and see sights like this. Men in trees, looking down:
Men under trees, looking up:
Worried owners looking on:
He knows what we all know: More rain is on the way today. And after that, a new storm blows in tomorrow:
We are watching and waiting...
And hoping the giant beasts of the neighborhood make it through the next onslaught.
They are magnificent, majestic.
I am grateful for the way they catch the afternoon light. And the way they sketch themselves against the sky.
I love how trees provide shade when the air is heavy and still. And I love the way they rustle when the air is chill and restless.
Our neighborhood trees provide shelter for birds. They produce fruit for whoever gets to it first (around here, that's squirrels and humans, mostly). Some local trees even smell like the sweetest honey in the early evening through the early morning:
This past week, my neighborhood's trees have taken quite a beating:
Last Sunday, it rained prodigious amounts. The official amount, measured near downtown Los Angeles, was over 2 inches in a 24-hour period. (That alone is remarkable for L.A., where the average annual rainfall is only about 12 inches.) But in our neck of the woods on Sunday, rain gauges clocked in at a whopping 6.6 inches!
And the wind was horrible, too.
All the rain make trees top-heavy, and sometimes all it takes is one good gust of wind to knock a soggy tree right over:
Here, Mu Shu moves in to see the damage up close:
All over my little pocket of Ozzy-and-Harrietland, I saw trees down:
Ouch! This poor PT Cruiser took it on the nose:
A shame; the tree was just beginning to break into blossoms:
Yet another tree down:
And another car beaten up:
The weight of this mighty trunk has torqued the car's wheel and flattened the tire:
After the rain's fury passed, all over the neighborhood you could hear the sound of buzz saws and see sights like this. Men in trees, looking down:
Men under trees, looking up:
Worried owners looking on:
He knows what we all know: More rain is on the way today. And after that, a new storm blows in tomorrow:
We are watching and waiting...
And hoping the giant beasts of the neighborhood make it through the next onslaught.
What a shame, on all accounts. It is sad to see a magnificent tree fall, for any reason. I saw two trees that had sucumbed to our recent whopper storms, but none in the direct path where I walk every day. (We had the same huge amounts of rain -- we could hardly empty our rain gauge fast enough to let the new rainfall in.)
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