the maple ate my baby

if ya can't beat 'em, join 'em

we've got a huge maple tree in the front of our house between the sidewalk and the street. it's got to be the largest tree on the block, and it's getting old; it sheds branches and big hunks of bark constantly. aside from springtime when i'm cursing it for spewing those infernal whirlicopters everywhere, i like this tree. the light that comes through the leaves makes our already green frontroom absolutely verdant. on lazy weekends, i wake up slowly by watching its thin uppermost branches dangle in the breeze outside our bedroom window.

last night in bed, we listened to a menacing scratching noise coming from above us.

"it's the tree. it's too big and it's touching the roof. we gotta call the city," casey said.

the last storm had kicked the crap out it and it seemed as if it was in its death throes, clambering and clawing at the house for help as the wind picked up.

early this morning as i was nursing otto peacefully in his teeny tiny room, i looked out the skylight to see one cute, lone branch of the apple tree to the south of the house, bouncing benignly, waving hello. at that moment, it reminded me of the tree from poltergeist outside robbie's room. i don't trust it -- that movie has ruined me.