Our driveway is a ravaged strip of dirt and concrete remnants. And a twenty-year old tree is now a stump. That’s what happens in the process of replacing a thirty-year old driveway. The tree’s roots had heaved up the driveway over time.
One of the main roots was a startling eight inches at its thickest and reached at least fifty feet. That doesn’t count all the little rootlets and root fuzz here and there all over the underside of the driveway. And when we chopped the tree, the trunk spouted water an inch high. Wow! All this, from a never-watered tree in a rather harsh high desert southwest environment: a volunteer Russian Olive in Santa Fe, NM.
By next weekend, the driveway will be as flat as when the house was built in 1983. We’ll miss the tree’s long shadow come summer. We’ll have to add some visual interest soon.
An article in Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader told me the words
trust all come from the same Indo-European root, an old word meaning
core. So I trust, saying we had a true tree, is at root, redundant.
Meanwhile, I’ve placed iOS7 on all our little devices. Flat design, as they call it. Chic: very few of those old distracting gradients. Just the contents (like a flat driveway):
Just the facts, Ma’am. Back to the roots. (They’ll have to add some interest quickly, like those
long shadows I’ve heard will be the next big thing.)
Some of my trusty old apps fail, or at least act strangely, on iOS7. A pause here, a sluggishness there, and flat-out failures elsewhere. I’m stumped: I find others to pick up the slack. The old ones will fall into place eventually, I trust.
Today at 2:45, local time, Autumn officially begins. Soon, we’ll see the distant mountains turn golden with aspen tree leaves about to fall.
🔖 environment, humor, Santa Fe, technology, water