I love driving into our thirty-year-old cul-de-sac! One that gives evidence of homes that have lovingly been cared for by one family after another. A street where young boys have played hockey with their dads before moving on to bigger things. A place where you will find neighbors visiting on sidewalks on long summer evenings. I appreciate the 'established' feeling of homes framed by tall evergreens and backyard birches bending in ice storms to bud with bright green foliage in the spring -joining the cherry blossoms - and Japanese maples that turn ever so red in the Fall before they blanket the ground in color.
There is a sense of ownership of what happens on this street, where neighbors take in each other's mail when one is on vacation and just generally look out for each other. So . . . no wonder . . . when, one day last week, I jumped when I heard the sound of tree cutting and mulching and all that goes with it. I was almost afraid to look out . . .
but there they were . . . our new neighbors across the street obviously do not share any of my sentimental feelings. Barely moved in, the tall evergreens were quickly coming down.
I watched in horror . . . and when they were done in front, they continued in the back yard.
The land is cleared . . . for what I do not know.
Yet I have to remember that even in this, . . .
in trees and streets and neighbors . . . there is a season.
May I find grace to embrace the new.
