My favorite tree lives in the RV parking lot.
It's twisted and gnarled from years of reaching towards
the light and bending with the wind.
Over the years, I've gotten into the habit of paying it a visit
whenever I walked that direction
to make sure it's still standing.
This summer, the Speedway's
maintenance people decided to trim the tree's
most twisted limb, one that it held like a dancer
twirling across the floor. While necessary, I was nonetheless
sad to see it go because it gave the tree an expression of
grace that is only acquired through experience.
This little collection of birdhouses
lives on a neighborhood porch that the
homeowner has given the feel of an outdoor living room.
While one side has been curtained for privacy it doesn't
close off the world. The curtain both softens
the afternoon light and catches the breezes
