A Conglomerated Collection

the tree in the backyard

Growing up, I always loved the breeze that rustled the trees shading our suburban backyard. It was a calming force, something I could feel but couldn't see. It made summer days more bearable, and it made the relaxing rain patter against my bedroom window. However, one stormy night while I was in high school, that changed. A tropical depression made its way to where I lived, and my dad informed me that the large, leaning tree right next to my bedroom window was dead. He was concerned that it would fall that night, so he requested I sleep on the couch in the living room downstairs. That night, I tossed and turned until the sun came up, occasionally drifting asleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the wind would blow again, which made a sickening whistle throughout the house. In the morning, the tree was still standing.

That one simple event changed the way I thought about the wind for a long time, especially at night. The musical notes of the windchimes on our back deck became a taunting reminder that the tree could crash into my and my sister's bedrooms at any moment as we lay unsuspectingly in our beds. If it didn't fall on the house, it would destroy the cars in our driveway. For years following that windy night, I would lie awake, staring at my ceiling. As each gust of wind hit the house, I sank lower into my sheets, cringing until the world was still again.

This irrational fear of the wind and the dead tree in the backyard continued for years, right before returning to school for my junior year of college. That summer, my dad decided that it was time to cut down the tree after years of discussing it. When the man who took the tree down spoke with my dad afterward, he recalled that he could feel the giant oak tree swaying under his weight. It had truly decayed and rotted, and it was a miracle it hadn't fallen. My family was sad to see the tree go; it provided our backyard with a large amount of shade since we moved to the house over twenty years ago. However, as I watched the videos my dad sent me while I was at work, my fear subsided with each fallen branch. I arrived home to a completely different backyard landscape. Once the tree was gone with only a stump and bright sunshine left in its place, I realized just how much I enjoyed its shade. The tree served as a brief respite from the hot summer, a stand where I propped up my archery target when practicing, and a home for many of the birds that serenaded our street. And now, the grand tree is gone, with just a small mound of soil where it once stood.