seiberwing (
seiberwing) wrote2006-10-12 09:54 am
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The worms crawl in
The worms crawl out
The worms play pinochle
On your snout.
I was in the arboretum back home with my mom on Monday and coming back to the car I notice something was missing, in that odd way that you know that something isn't right but have no clue what.
After searching for a bit, I noticed one of the pear trees was cut down. My pear tree. The one with a plaque saying it was planted just a few days after my birthday, the one that I used to hug every time I went to the arboretum. I stared at the stump for a few seconds, then sat down on it and cried.
I know it was diseased and probably needed taking down before it infected anything else, but still...it was my tree. It just doesn't seem fair that the tree should die before I did.
The worms crawl out
The worms play pinochle
On your snout.
I was in the arboretum back home with my mom on Monday and coming back to the car I notice something was missing, in that odd way that you know that something isn't right but have no clue what.
After searching for a bit, I noticed one of the pear trees was cut down. My pear tree. The one with a plaque saying it was planted just a few days after my birthday, the one that I used to hug every time I went to the arboretum. I stared at the stump for a few seconds, then sat down on it and cried.
I know it was diseased and probably needed taking down before it infected anything else, but still...it was my tree. It just doesn't seem fair that the tree should die before I did.
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We used to have a giant hackberry tree just behind our garage . . . 121 feet tall, they said, having measured it after they cut it down. The insurance company complained about it, saying it was a big risk in storms and there was I think something about them refusing to cover our garage for storm damage because of it. So one day my mom came up to school and brought us home over lunch---to watch them take it down. They were already partially done, and I sat in the window and cried. Not only that, but it was way in the back of our yard, and to get at it they cut down another tree I liked, with a crotch that was perfect for sitting and reading in! It was already cut off at ground level and there was a truck parked over it!
I wrote a poem about it, but I don't think I have that anymore.
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We used to have an apple tree in our yard that was smallish, but perfect for climbing in. It died and had to get cut down though. I miss it because I can remember my sisters and I playing near it when I was younger.
...I feel emo now.
*hugs more and gives E-cookies*
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On another note, where did you hear that rhyme? It sounds a lot like one I was taught as a sort of nursery rhyme as a kid, only that one was like this:
The worms crawl in
the worms crawl out
In your stomach
and out your mouth
If you see
a herse go by
You will be
the next to die
They'll wrap you up
In a bloody white sheet
And bury you under
six foot deep
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Bittersweet (http://newagelink.livejournal.com/122966.html), having emotions like these. I'd try to see it as a good experience, that 1) you have the opportunity to have a tree as a pet, and that 2) you have the capacity to feel for it. There are those that can do neither; on /b/ at 4chan I ran across a thread saying, "Post the picture that made you emotionless," and people posted photographs of mutilated cats and kittens.
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(Anonymous) 2006-10-20 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)There's a small forest behind my house that's being destroyed, little by little. Either by construction, or the local paintball-playing idiots. I hate it when trees are cut down.
-Hika
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(Anonymous) - 2006-10-22 20:51 (UTC) - Expand(no subject)