How Deep is Your Love?

Thanksgiving day spent solo as P drove back to spend with family.  When you know a day is supposed to be special, there is a bit of pressure to experience something unique.  As I was daydreaming out my kitchen window in the morn, which is a daily ritual while waiting for my almond milk to heat for the coffee, I began fixating on the backyard tree.  How alone it is out there, almost imprisoned between the buildings.  I wonder if it talks to the neighboring trees underground.  I wonder if it feels appreciated, or feels anything at all.  As I kept focusing on it, it seemed to become taller and taller.  I had to crook my neck to see the top.  I remember when the crew of Mexican tree-cutters came and trimmed all its branches after a storm broke off a giant limb that fell on my downstairs neighbor's patio furniture.  How long has it stood here?  What was it like as a small tree? Were the fences erected sometime years later?   I suddenly felt such deep respect and gratitude for this perennial giant full of stoic wisdom. 

All of these questions after a brownie bite and latte.  

This gratitude was all I needed in order to later make and enjoy this slow simmered ragu sauce over perfectly al dente spaghetti noodles.