Farewell, Giving Tree. Hello depressing firewood pile.

[Moonliner]

Originally Posted by Eliza Hodgkins 1812

Forgive the pun, but I'm about to get sappy about a tree.

Any chance of saving a cutting and nursing it along until it can be planted back in the same spot?

[Eliza Hodgkins 1812]

Originally Posted by Moonliner

Any chance of saving a cutting and nursing it along until it can be planted back in the same spot?

At this point, I doubt it. The tree has been hacked to pieces and I don't know anything about gardening or planting in general. My pops loves trees, as well, so I think he would have looked into it if there was a way.

[€uroMeinke]

My vision transforms your front yard into dark mysterious forest landscaped like the art design of Pan’s Labyrinth. From the gaping hole merge the wood nymphs who look remarkably lie a set of LoTer you might see at a Palm Springs retreat only, their bodies are streaked with mud and carry with them the usual forest detritus of mossy twigs, fall leaves. Their faces washed with mischief, they delight in their release as they sneak off into your neighborhood, blessing the trees and grasses and taking residence in untended garages where only the animals know they are there.

Mysteriously, fires are quenched or rather redirected into the amorous desires of the home owners. Several nights of passion sweep over the neighborhood and at the next full moon, a fruit tree appears where the hole once was. The fruit it bares is sweeter than any other. And no one ever talks about it again.

[Eliza Hodgkins 1812]

Originally Posted by €uroMeinke

My vision transforms your front yard into dark mysterious forest landscaped like the art design of Pan’s Labyrinth. From the gaping hole merge the wood nymphs who look remarkably lie a set of LoTer you might see at a Palm Springs retreat only, their bodies are streaked with mud and carry with them the usual forest detritus of mossy twigs, fall leaves. Their faces washed with mischief, they delight in their release as they sneak off into your neighborhood, blessing the trees and grasses and taking residence in untended garages where only the animals know they are there.

Mysteriously, fires are quenched or rather redirected into the amorous desires of the home owners. Several nights of passion sweep over the neighborhood and at the next full moon, a fruit tree appears where the hole once was. The fruit it bares is sweeter than any other. And no one ever talks about it again.

Loss transformed into magic. I heart you so! Thanks for this, Chris. Achingly lovely and haunting and fun. You know how much I love mischievous concepts.