This week we lost a spruce tree that had been with us for almost ten years. In retrospect, it wasn’t the best choice for the spot, because 1) it didn’t have enough room, 2) it didn’t have enough light, 3) it didn’t like the snow, and 4) it didn’t like the heat. Still, it might have survived except that a few years ago a group of stray cats started climbing up and down the tree, which left a lot of deep scratches on the trunk and made it susceptible to disease.
“RIP Norway spruce: we’ll miss u.” — Dante
Inside, Clio continues to adjust to her surroundings, which is definitely a process.
It’s sort of like she’s a teenager who’s moved into a retirement home.
“Who is this girl who looks exactly like me and why is she here?” — Zephyr
There’s still a lot more watching than touching.
Clio is way faster than anyone else, which isn’t saying much.
In other news, our flowers endured the heat.
We have a lot more color in our garden this August than we’ve ever had, thanks to the death of the bamboo, which opened up a lot of light. One thing you learn as a gardener is that things will inevitably die, and you need to make the best of it.
You move a few things around, and all that’s left is the spirit of what was lost.
