It's been an interesting week. I just lost a new friend due to a misunderstanding, and I'm really, really, REALLY beginning to realize just how much my ex-boyfriend doesn't want to have any kind of friendship with me, either.
(Note to self: don't add ex-boyfriends to your Facebook friends list. It's too painful seeing what they're up to in the long stretches between your infrequent telephone conversations.)
So this morning when I was out doing the car shuffle I was in a kind of pensive mood. Then I noticed one of the trees I was passing as I walked the block back to my apartment. It was a chestnut tree, much taller than the others around it. I immediately wondered how high it was.
I thought about a book I had pulled off my shelves yesterday; I browsed through it before napping. It's called Meetings with Remarkable Trees by Thomas Pakenham, and is full of the most amazing photographs and descriptions of noteworthy trees in Great Britain.
There is a woods in my hometown of London, Ontario where there is an oak tree that is estimated to be at least 700 years old. (That's a picture of it, above.)
Suddenly my week doesn't seem so important...*
*Although I just remembered – my ex and I spent one of our first days together as a couple underneath that oak tree. Crap! Back to thinking about him again…