Sunday, February 19, 2012

Beloved catalpa felled but not forgotten

He loved his tree.
He was thinking how much he loved it as he drove up to the sawmill the other day hoping to wrest some consolation from its startling, rude death.
He loved how his tree had shaded his brick cottage for the 32 years he'd lived there with his family, loved that it had stood outside the house for the whole century since his Chicago neighborhood sprang from the dirt next to the river. He loved that it was the tallest tree on the block, visible across the rooftops from as far away as Irving Park Road.

For the rest of the story ... 

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