This morning the neighbors behind us cut down a tree in their yard that overhangs our fence. It was home to many hummingbirds.
It wasn’t ill. Just messy. Periodically it filled our yard with tiny, holly-like leaves that crunched under my feet when I walked over them to water my plants.
I felt physically sick when I watched it start to happen this morning. The sounds of the chainsaws cut into my attempt at a quiet coffee reverie. It sounded like violent environmental murder. “STOPSTOPSTOP!!” rattled my brain.
I had to get into the shower to get away. When I came out, she was gone. I don’t know why it was a she.
And now the view out my kitchen window is jarring, too bright, and unfamiliar in a way that makes me feel like I am in someone else’s house. Standing at somebody else’s window. Because the giant tree is gone and now suddenly I see a stark tile roof and a wide expanse of sky.
And the hummingbirds are already arriving and are navigationally off kilter.
Just like me.