I’m posting out of order because I’m heartbroken and sick to my stomach and
if I don’t post this now I may chicken out by the time I get caught up.
This is the only photo I took today. They cut down my bird trees this
morning, the cottonwoods by the office that I could even see from my bedroom
(giving a great double meaning to the blinds in the window), trees in which
I have photographed northern flickers, American kestrels, common ravens,
common starlings, and house finches, and that list only covers the last 5
days. Earlier visitors, most caught on film, have included downy or hairy
woodpeckers (hard to tell apart at a distance), common crows, ospreys,
red-tailed hawks, magpies, western tanagers, black-capped chickadees, and
red-winged blackbirds to name just a few. These trees were where I
photographed the peregrine falcon in September, and are the subject of the
print my neighbor’s nephew chose as a wedding gift, which was also a post—Do
you think trees dream of netting the moon?—and they feature in one of my
favorite storm pictures, Lilac Lightning, which hangs on my living room
wall. Sadly, these will dream no more.
4 comments:
Oh no. That is terrible. Any idea why they cut them down?
Because there's a postage-stamp-size playground behind the safe house for abused women and children. They were afraid a branch might fall (about 200 feet from the tree, out of frame to the right) on one of the children who, in the three years I've lived here, I have NOT ONCE seen using the playground. NEVER. They even cut down the live stuff, cuz evidently they don't know there's a qualified, certified arborist TEN MILES FROM HERE who could have kept those trees from ever needing to die like this. I counted this morning and I have photographed no less than 17 bird species in those trees, including my precious peregrine falcon from September. The kestrels circled for hours this morning, crying in distress along with me as they look for the trees I photo'd them in the day before they were butchered. Oh well, I don't have kids and can't pass a credit check so (EXTRA-unladylike word here) my quality of life anyway, right? ...and yes, as a matter of fact I *have* drafted a letter of venomous but carefully-phrased, non-accusatory outrage to send to every damn local newspaper & wildlife advocate I can find.
Awwwwwwww - that is heartbreaking.
It just keeps getting better. No sign of any intent to clear away the raw chunks of tree that I can't really NOT see from my mailbox, the property office, and the laundry room. My neighbor tried SO HARD to make it better--took me way up in the woods to our favorite place in Sula, where I got virtually no photos because, like the only bird I saw, I was too busy slinking through the brush to evade someone's single-digit-age unsupervised children, who were rampaging around the riverbank with light and noise generating toy ray guns. Apparently it's no longer going to be possible for me to go anywhere without other people's children taking priority over my career & peace of mind. Add to that the kindly gent who, from a different checkout line, took the time to point out to me that he thought he'd seen a broomstick sale in a nearby aisle because he evidently disapproved of me having a panic attack in public--of all the discourteous things I could do in a crowded grocery store, right?--and I'm about ready to just stop leaving my house at all, at least without "adult supervision" in the form of my irritable biker downstairs neighbor! (/end rant)
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