Dylan was going into the second grade when we moved to Tuxedo Park, New York, a place populated with huge trees and old stone houses. I mention the part about huge trees and old stone houses, because both of them figure into this little story.
I was inside our OLD STONE HOUSE (see? I told you) when Dylan rushed inside to say A HUGE TREE had almost fallen on top of him. I kind of said yeah, yeah, yeah. That's what huge trees do--they just jump out of the ground and purposely fall on second graders who CLEARLY FEEL LIKE THEY'RE NOT GETTING ATTENTION FROM FRAZZLED MOMS WHO JUST UNPACKED A BIG OLD U-HAUL AFTER DRIVING ACROSS THE COUNTRY WITH FIVE KIDS AND THREE DOGS.
So I ignored him and went about my business, and later when I went outside, I realized I couldn't back out of the driveway because there was a 100-foot tree that had fallen (TIMBER!) across the road and landed squarely on our property. Where, apparently, my little boy had been standing, all slack-jawed with amazement.
That's why I was interested in a picture he and Julie sent me after Hurricane Irene. Guess what fell down near their house?
I know. My son the Tree Magnet.