The sixty-plus foot horse chestnut tree which has towered over my house for my entire life there is gone. It toppled into the street in a windstorm the day before yesterday. Took out power, cable, phone and internet service for the block. I’ve lost an old friend.
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“I am the world crier, & this is my dangerous career… I am the one to call your bluff, & this is my climate.” —Kenneth Patchen (1911-1972)
I’ve always liked Horse Chestnut trees, from collecting the nuts as a kid to using them to decorate in the pine cone wreaths I made as gifts for friends when I was a young mother. There don’t seem to be as many around as there were when I was young.
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