This morning, the last day of April, we got another roaring powerful and violent wind storm. With the last one, our wires were blown down and we had no electric power for 2 hours. This time the two young women next door came and got my car keys and moved my car because they saw a limb that looked as though it was going to come down.
It did come down and is lying across my fortunately sturdy chain link fence, alongside a disaster twin that fell from another nearby tree.
My trees are almost as old as I am, most of them around 70. They were planted when the house was built, some may have already been here, and that was 72 years ago. I am 74.
I feel as though I am the newcomer, the 'new neighbor' to the trees, so I try to live in peaceful harmony with them, as all trees try to do wherever they live. But when big windstorms come up, they lash the house and hurl down solid vertical canon balls on me. Although to not think of them as weapons but as limbs, then I have to feel sorry for the trees getting older and weaker, as am I, and having their limbs torn off them!
My neighbor across the street heard the crash and came over to see if I were alright, which obviously, I am.
How kind of these neighbors to think about me and take the time to check on me. They are all young - the young women next door are around 30, and the young man across the street is in his 40's. My neighbors are good like that, ready to help but never intrusive or troublemaking.
It is times like these when you recognize and appreciate goodwill when it comes knocking on your door.
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