Phantom Tree

A Sunday Short

Hello, dear readers, this is another Sunday Short - a feature where I share my original short fiction and poetry. I hope you enjoy this quick and simple selection. Thank you for being here.

---

Phantom Tree

I look up

to where you used to be

tall, magnificent

older than me

maybe

My eyes don’t know

how to read your language

They only see a stump

A glaring exclamation point

to your fate.

But when I look up,

there you are.

---

A freak November thunderstorm in 2020 took down three trees, a telephone pole and some old electric wires that, thankfully, were no longer live. A strong wind had shot straight up our driveway, leaving quite a mess. We hired a service for cleanup, and they offered to look at other trees we were concerned about while they were there. The owner of the company listed trees he thought warranted attention, while also urging us to keep a few we thought might need to come down. He offered to do some adaptive pruning for free. He hated cutting down trees, too, even though it was his business. He trimmed and saved the ones he could.

One tree in question was an Eastern Hemlock. Besides its awkward location near an outbuilding we use to store tools and supplies for our business, as well as our mower and the Hubster’s motorcycle, the Hemlock had a split-leader or co-dominant stem. Meaning two branches of similar size had emerged from the trunk at the same time. They form what looks like a sling-shot and can weaken a tree’s overall structure. This tree was decades old, and it would have been difficult to correct even if it had been in a good location, as conifers aren’t easily pruned.

I really hated to see the tree go, but it had begun to crack, and the tree guy was concerned it could fall. At 40 ft tall, the possibility it would hit the outbuilding, as well as our house, was high.

Honestly, more than once over the years, I’d watched this tree sway in the wind with concern. I’d actually had a nightmare that it fell on my house.

I still felt bad for having it cut down.

Not long after it was gone, I wrote Phantom Tree. I’d been standing on the stump, looking up, and the words came to me.

The tree still haunts my dreams. I see her swaying in the wind…and I miss her.

*If I find a good photo of this beautiful tree, I’ll share it in Notes. I know I have a few on a flash drive somewhere. I do have one picture on my phone, but it’s from the day she was cut down, as the crew was trimming her lower branches. So sad. It felt like posting an execution, so I didn’t share it here. Yes, I’m a sensitive (goof) soul.