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It Wasn't Really Funny

I miss being near trees. In an attempt to bring some bit of the outside inside, I asked our town runner yesterday to stop at a park in town and find a deadfall branch, something with a few branches on it, to me. Actually, I said exactly "when you go back to Gregoire, there's a park there, near the trailer park. Can you find a tree and on the ground near it, grab me a stick? Something with lots of branches on it." Later that afternoon, she walked into my office with the top of a ash tree.

"Funny story," she said. "I was at Tim Horton's and I looked across the parking lot. There were these trees along the side of the road, and I though, there isn't much snow, so I, like, grabbed it and twisted...." I more or less zoned out at that point, horrified that I was holding the top of this tree. It was like holding a severed head. Really. It was just starting to bud, the bark was green where it had been violently ripped apart. I couldn't just throw it out, but it really made me feel incredibly guilty having it in my office. I left it here overnight, not sure what to do with it.

This morning, it came to me. I couldn't put it back, so I had to make it something useful. I appologized to the tree and cut the branches off. I found some coloured file folders that I cut into strips. I wove the whole thing together and made a wreath and gave it to one of my more supportive, understanding co-workers.

This office is going to be even less witchy when I'm gone, so it's good to leave behind something.

posted by September @ 8:55 AM