We had some rain last night. And quite a bit of wind. I didn’t open the shutters to see what was going on, but the windows rattled for a while. This morning, San Geraldo, opened the living room shutters and thought something looked different on the plaza. He noticed the palm tree on the corner had a tremendous curve to its trunk. Odd for an old palm tree that had stood vertically for such a long time. Palm tree trunks tend to bend in the wind and return to their original pose
 |
| THE PALM STILL STANDING LOOKS A BIT LIKE A TRUFFULA TREE (FROM DR. SEUSS’S “THE LORAX”). |
Still, there was something else odd about the plaza. And then San Geraldo got it. Another palm tree was no longer where it was supposed to be. The trunk had been snapped and the rest of the tree lay on the plaza, having smashed a bench on its way down.
 |
| A STRANGE SIGHT. |
I’ve never seen a palm tree snap. Even during an earthquake in Santa Barbara, California, I watched huge palms sway until their crowns touched the ground only to bounce back up to their original positions. No harm done.
 |
| SOMEONE HAS ALREADY SCAVENGED THE BENCH SLATS. |
I don’t believe in signs or omens, really. My feeling is one can read whatever one wants into just about anything. But, if I did believe, I would say maybe someone is telling us it’s time to move on — before someone drops a tree on us.
I wonder — since I was asleep and wasn’t “there” to hear it — if the tree still made a noise when it fell.
 |
If there's no-one there to hear it then there is no forest …
At least the bitch Dorothy bought it in the storm.
Owl Wood:
But, if a man speaks in the forest and no woman is there to hear him, is he still wrong? (My guess is "yes.")
All I remember is the note Dorothy left behind:
"Dear Aunt Em,
Hate you. Hate Kansas.
Took the dog.
— Dorothy"
She didn't make it very far either – woke up strapped to her bed, medicated and being "de-programmed" by her family. I hear she's a successful orthodontist in Minneapolis now.
So she escaped the murder charge then. Poor Miss Gulch – I hope she gets justice some day…
I do believe in signs and omens, Mitchell…though I then tend to laugh at myself for doing so; however, if this was a sign, I wouldn't necessarily do the math in such a way that it was aimed at you. LOL
Maybe it is for a particularly nasty neighbor with a penchant for red shoes?
Writer:
In Sevilla, we have a lot of neighbors with red shoes, though not many sparkly ones.
But if the tree had been aimed at us, it would have hit us, I think it was a just a warning shot.
So philosophical for this time of day!!
Not being familiar with Palm trees maybe it was diseased in the the centre and ready to snap off.
I do think you guys have had your 'tree' fall on you. No need to wait for one.
Jim:
I think the palm tree was very dry, which makes it less resilient. The other one doesn't look well. And a couple of deciduous trees in the plaza now have a significant "tilt." It's a shame. I agree about not waiting for our own well-aimed tree.
I'd say it's time to pack up the ruby slippers–leave the striped stockings behind–and get the heck out of there!
Bob:
I love those striped tights… even more than the ruby slippers. I'm not leaving them behind.
Yup, time to go. Well, maybe. That is, if you want to. I mean, if it feels right. But, let's not be hasty.
Heh heh 🙂
All of this reminds me that I saw WICKED two weeks ago, and it was fantastic! And I do not really enjoy theatre, let alone musicals. It was fabulous.
Judeet:
Oh, we LOVED "Wicked." Now, "You're Gonna Be POP-you-oo-ler" (well, more POP-you-oo-ler than you already are).
We never make hasty decisions. We always think things over for at least a few minutes.
It's always sad when a tree dies. I guess I'm just an old hippie tree hugger.
Stephen:
The look of the plaza does sadden me now, too. There were originally four palms. Two died before we arrived and just trunks wrapped in bougainvillea remain. Now we're down to one, and it's not long for this world. With two deciduous trees looking unhappy, the plaza may soon be much less green.
Are you a good witch, or a bad witch? Or is THAT the witch [points to Dudo]?
Walt the Fourth:
I'm not any kind of witch at all. Witches are old and… Well…
Wow. Right outside your apartment!
Reminds me of an "All In The Family" episode when Meathead relates to Archie how a huge crate fell at work, nearly crushing him: "Thank God I wasn't hit!"
To which Archie replied, "How do you know He didn't miss?"
(Glad to hear you're safe and sound!)
Dean:
Your memory of that "All In The Family" episode made me laugh out loud.
I say you're looking for a sign and you got it!
Jenners:
I be-LEIVE!
Palm trees are everywhere here in Phoenix – they are more a driving than a falling hazard.
Spo:
I remember those hazards in Southern California. Always a bit frightening to walk or drive in a wind storm. I had some near misses.
I love trees….have always loved trees…am I a tree hugger? Could be! I guess that's why we have so many trees on our property which can cause problems unlike your situation…hurricane forces toppling such trees and waking up in the morning to see…just like you…what happened out there? SO I understand what you have just gone through. Time to head for the seashore and just rest the weary brain and soul!
Ron
Ron:
It was very lucky the tree didn't fall on anyone or anything other than that bench! The brains are definitely weary right now.
I think I sat on that bench, or the one next to it just opposite of Bodega Ammarillo.
I think it's a sign, during the summer months your apartment will get the full blast of the sun when that palm is gone.
Peter:
I think you DID sit on the bench that is no longer there! You're right about the sun. That palm shaded us a bit and tree in front will probably have to go. That provided most of the shade from the afternoon sun — and both provided hiding places for the local parrots. What a shame.