The end always comes

whether we are ready or not

They cut down two beautiful big trees in front of my apartment yesterday.

I’ve lived here for six months, and the trees and I were friends. It gave my patio shade, solitude, and a bit of anonymity, a place to hide away but still be. They also provided a home for hundreds of little creatures who became my friends.

The birds sang to me when the quiet would be too much to bear.

The squirrels would cause a bit of chaos, but overall, they were playful and brought me joy, especially on the hard days when I felt alone in this world. They would stop mid-scurry, frozen in curiosity, in the beginning, wondering if I was a friend or foe. The nuts I provided proved me one of them, and eventually, daily talks about life, the world and what each of us makes of it.

A world that will cut down a tree in the name of progress or to remove the inconvenience caused by a tree, just simply being. The humans that have claimed this space as theirs and theirs alone call this progress. I, technically, am one of those humans, even if, often, I would prefer to live amongst the birds and the squirrels

There was nothing wrong with the trees. They were just in the way.

I can relate.

Change and chaos have been constant in my life for a while now. It seems that whenever I finally feel safe, something comes crashing to the ground like a violent assault on my soul, and without even a hint of its arrival.

Something I love gets taken away from me.

I stood outside this morning, taking in the carnage; two squirrels came by fear replacing their curious glances. I know what it’s like to have your home ripped out from underneath you.

They say that every end becomes a beginning.

With the trees gone, the light comes flooding into my apartment; I feel exposed and unprepared for the audience that can now peer into my windows unobstructed.

There is nowhere to hide anymore; the trees that were my protectors are gone, and the little families that lived there are left scavenging for a new place to call home and soon they will be gone too.

I will try and be grateful for the light as soon as I am done grieving for the shadow.