Because I begged, the city cut the giant oak to pedestal height rather than to stub. I put a giant container of ferns on it and a bobbing egret. Somehow I feel better because it is not so obviously decapitated. Also, the raw sawed off top somehow reminds me of the short story, " The Giving Tree" which I hated because it seemed to show that the results of a loving heart are destruction. The boy is sad and the tree gives itself to him as lumber. The boy sells the lumber and is still unsatisfied. The tree offers more. Finally, the boy grows up and is still unsatisfied as an adult. The tree has nothing else to give.
I think I fear that I will never be satisfied at least not with praise from the outside which I discount as " If they only knew." When am I satisfied? When I play with Ryn or when I cook a good breakfast for guests or when I finish an elder interview that seems to ring true...or when I turn an oak tree stump into something less horrific or when I plant a garden or a tree for my grandchildren.
Footnote. Keith Richards heard the melody line for " Satisfaction," one of the Rolling Stones great hits, in a dream.He said he used to sleep with a guitar and a tape recorder.
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