On a morning walk through the local park today, I found four trees curiously missing; freshly cut at the base.
These were seemingly unoffensive plants, not so tall, and they must have been close in age to me. For a moment I just stood, lamenting why the park would have chosen to cut them down.
There was fresh sap oozing from the cuts.
What else to do, but work with the trees on a small piece of funerary art.
I bow to the tree stumps in turn, collect some of the remaining fall leaves, and dab a bit of the sticky sap on each of them. They adhere nicely to a wall just across the path.
My condolence to the trees.
Patrick M. Lydon
born San Jose, USA / lives Osaka, Japan