Anyhow, we have/had seven tall pine trees. Four of them finally gave up and are nothing but bare limbs. A few days ago the one in the front yard fell to the ground. It landed on the fence and luckily did no damage. This fall I'll call someone out to cut down the one in the backyard that is close to the house. I hate to see them go. No more pine cones. No more branches for birds to build their nests. The mesquites and elms have suffered a little, but they're tough and can withstand the drought. For how much longer I don't know. The mulberries are sickly. So I pray for rain every day. A good heavy rain to add water to the lakes and ponds. Farewell lovely pines.
Our son has cut this one up so it's not hanging over the driveway. One consolation: We'll have a lot of firewood for this winter.
Now, this has nothing to do with writing. Or does it? How about a story of a tree and the critters that live in its branches and holes in the trunk. Yeah, I guess it's been done. You never know.