Jan

14

The heater is worn out and broken, and it is cold for winter even in California. There is ice outside on the walk, but it is toasty inside.

Today the college daughter travels back east after the holiday to complete her freshman year; one of those bitter-sweet times when the cycle of life shows itself.

The girls were little when we got this old house, and one of the first projects was to replace the heating and air-conditioning system. It was an industrial strength unit which was billed as "The Only One You Will Ever Need." Winters are not often harsh but summer can be brutal; especially many years ago when the numerous trees were too small to make much shade. Over the years, both air conditioning and heating were used to much advantage tempering the little women.

A few summers ago, we set up a badminton net in the yard under a large pine tree which cast a good playing shade. Sometimes the tree caused interference, and with considerable effort and ladder-balancing, errant limbs were cut to clear a path for the shuttlecock (favorite risk-related thoughts while juggling the chainsaw involved the inner voice "What a Shame He Didn't Hire Someone"). Like other family sports, this little investment diffused many teen crises, and led to much togetherness and memories sweet like the air from the pines. Often while playing, we would discuss where to apply to college and about all the different schools. Looking back, it is strange how at the time, these plans seemed so fantastic and remote.

The big pine was rooted on a hill over the yard in direct view of the kitchen window. Each year we watched the tree grow vigorously. It is so impressive how these living things reach up and thrive on just a little water, air, and sun. A wooden birdhouse hung from one of its branches and was used as a bird feeder. Over time, the tilt of the house confirmed what was happening: the tree was leaning. By now, the pine was 30 feet tall, had an 18 inch trunk, and was listing precariously toward the roof of our home. The hill where it was rooted was rocky, and it was decided that we should not risk testing the tree through the next storm season, so I had it cut down.

They were a crew of Hispanic men with ropes, chainsaws, and a chipping truck. They grappled, climbed, and dismembered our old friend within an hour. As instructed, they made him into fire logs, and stacked them neatly along the deck. Some were so large that they served as benches by the hammock. Now after two years, the wood has dried sufficiently to fuel an excellent fire, which has given respite from the current cold snap. The stored energy of sunny days spent swatting the badminton, chatting and laughing, now pours back into the living room where I just said goodbye to a young lady until another summer day.


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