I've Seen Sunny Days That I Thought Would Never End

New York was to feel a bit of the residual wrath of Tropical Storm Isaias.  I thought it was odd, and the first time I recalled that a Tropical storm came from the land side of us, meaning from the west.  The radar looked so menacing.  I've made poor decisions in the past when deciding whether to pull the trigger of riding to work on bad weather days, but finally decided to just bite the bullet and if nothing else, it would be an adventure.  Just as I was leaving, I realized my tire was flat so I took this as a sign to seal the deal and call out from work.   Several areas of Brooklyn and Queens felt the strong winds and major downpours later that day.  I watched from my kitchen window and caught a half an hour of strong winds going by as the apartment darkened midday.  I was pretty sure we missed anything significant but when we headed out for a quick walk, we saw some downed trees.

One in particular was this poor thing below.  We had joked about the big tree in our back area crashing through our window just an hour before and here just down the block, that very thing did happen to our neighbors.  It became apparent that the storm came through with needle like precision based on the debris on that one block alone.  Could have been a small funnel.

The next day in Red Hook there was also some evidence of strong winds that took down some Tree of Heaven, famous for serving as the metaphor and subject matter for the best-selling American novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith.  Appropriately found in an abandoned parking lot.  

This little guy might not recover from something like that or be given a chance by the sanitation department.  Since, in the end I did nothing about it nor is this a rescue story, I took detailed notice of my reaction to ponder later.  After passing it on my regular route, I circled back to take a look.  I stood straddling my bike, staring at it, thinking on this one tree.  I felt sad that it may be dead or more importantly, that it was dying right there in front of me.  I took pictures which I tend to do when I am unsure how to feel about something.  Even noticed that it's body lie stretched out on three quarters of the street yet cars were still zooming through, running over more of the outer branches with each pass by.  I was struck by how brutal that felt.  We wouldn't do that to most living things that lie dying on the road.  Rats, sure but a beautiful young tree?  Where does that fit in our compassion scale?  But I never went up to touch it or got too close.  I did talk to it under my mask, wondering how I might help, although I thought of nothing.  I wondered if it held any type of consciousness.  I made up a short on-the-spot eulogy like someone would who didn't know you.   I figured it was a male, obviously young, planted here by the city most likely not many years ago.  Interestingly enough, it's on an industrial block, not a place that you might even notice a street tree.  However, across the street and along that same sidewalk there are the most beautiful plants and Weeping Willows, and my favorite, a weeping cherry tree that blooms the palest pink flowerettes in the spring that remind me of a glass of bubbly champagne when the sun hits it just right.  This is only a couple of blocks from the water, probably once a beautiful area.  I wonder what lavish fauna grew here at one point.  I wonder if a tree's life is any different growing within a cemented off 4ft radius as opposed to being able to branch out freely.  That was also the life of the beautiful Sycamore that cracked near our apartment but he was surrounded by his giant, ancient brothers, most likely over 150 years old, all lining the same gorgeous street.

The sycamore stump today 08/21/20.  RIP big tree.