"Dye-dye, tree."

A couple weeks ago we had a sad day at the Martin house. Our lovely sprawling maple tree that enriched the view out our kitchen window, its roots had transgressed into the neighboring parking spots and the HOA had had enough. I felt I owed it to the tree to watch.

When it's first branch fell, Peter was shocked and then troubled--"tree??" 

When it was nap time soon thereafter, I told him that the tree would be gone when he got up. As we went upstairs he said, "Dye-dye [bye bye], tree."  I won't lie--I teared up, and then did my work in the kitchen so to watched as the execution unfolded over the next hour. 

Last branch.

So long, tree. You were a good friend. Heralding each changing season, filling my daily view with green and spectacular orange, swaying in thunderstorms and beautifully bearing snow. You are sorely missed.