A regular sort of day.  An early meeting

Rich’s handwriting that unaccountably reminds me of Thomas Jefferson (probably because we were discussing Monticello…)

the discovery that one of the beautiful Garry oaks south of the Annex Studio fell in yesterday’s storm

nobody plants these any more,  but they are the “signature” of the Willamette Valley…the great groves increasingly smaller and smaller…

The same tree in February from the Annex Studio, full of mistletoe (oddly a parasite…)

This made me remember that in 2003 I was driving by the park and saw another oak down after a storm and wrote this little poem, not my best poetic effort but it does describe the moment:

The Gulliver Oak

An old oak fell

in the park today,

soggy ground

letting go of roots.

Like Gulliver,

lying out flat

with incident tape

holding him down.

(The Lilliputians

must have been

on coffee break

eating tiny scones,

when I drove by.)

From the car

it was just

a single lonely oak,

dead in the grass.