Thursday, November 10, 2011
My fall branch in 2011
Those were the only sign of "real fall" for me.
Here, in London, now for the 4th fall, all the street takes wonderful fall colours, but this branch which is like the one I had is specially speaking to me, year after year.
Here it is a memory of what was.
Some reminder, from afar. Reminder of those days I stayed home and sometimes my only "fall" tree were those branches in my garden.
Till, one day, furious on me, my grandson chopped it down, "to put it on the grave of the dead cat, where my mom told me it was buried."
It never really grew back. Before leaving, it begun, timidly.
At least not until I left, that was all.
"My branch" the only one I remember.