A while back the tree in my courtyard caught some sort of horrendous disease and nearly died.
I wanted to move. I was so sad.
Looking through my courtyard windows and seeing that was so beyond depressing.
We had it trimmed. (More like scalped.) And we waited…
We I pulled ourselves myself together and painted the courtyard. (I didn’t paint the courtyard. Someone else did.) The tree grew back. We added a vine on the right. All was well.
Things were moving along swimmingly.
Everything was growing nicely…
It was cute and green.
…and I was happy again.
Until Sunday afternoon.
My entire family (Vivienne, Lila, C. and I) was out in the courtyard for quite a while playing, planting, etc.
It had just rained for TWO days in Cabo and all of my old plants, and some new, were moved to the center of the courtyard to get a little sprinkle.
We noticed that something was a lot different about the tree… that it had shifted like a FOOT to the right. Should we cut it down? Should we try to anchor it to the wall?
This was Sunday evening. We decided we’d figure it out on Monday.
Um, our beloved tree had other plans.
About 10 minutes after we all went into the house, our approximately 18 ft. tree fell.
I feel that the tree’s abrupt ending was on my behalf.
I needed something dramatic. Otherwise I fear I would have attempted to save this tree at least 10 more times.
The trunk and the roots? They were sponge.
It was like the tree was saying, “See? SEE? I was done. It’s ok. You did all you could.”
It was time.
(If you haven’t noticed… I have a semi-unhealthy affinity for my plants and trees. That’s a longer blog post, though…)
That’s Ferg on-site checking things out. We couldn’t find her hard hat. (You think I jest.)
So yeah. The tree’s gone.
In it’s wake, a complete blank canvas. As it turns out, the vine thing? Dead, too. Something is eating it and it.is.a.mess.
New beginnings around here, ya’ll. New beginnings.