Loss is Hard

I lost a tree. In a sense, I never had it - it was not mine. But it was part of my life - it told me about upcoming changes of seasons way in advance. It danced when the weather changed. It hosted a variety of birds and often one very loud murder of crows. It changed the shape of my sky. It was a large European Ash tree (Fraxinus excelsior). 

Even if you know it is coming, loss is hard. Even if you think there is nothing you could have done, it is hard. Or if you have a list of things you think you might have done differently. I still want more time with it. It is a natural way of things. Birds are circling in search of a familiar perch. And I keep checking the spot.

Drawing helped. Walking helped. Remembering how Amy Stewart documented her loss in a "requiem for a tree" helped. People helped, of course. Earplugs helped. Remembering and visiting other trees too.