Last Saturday, a neighbor decided to take a chainsaw into my mother's yard to cut down some trees. Even though they had known her for years, they said they didn't know who the land belonged to.
I love to take shots of the sunset and then do watercolors or oil paintings of them.
I love the branches against the sky, how they frame the colors. I was raised with this view of the sky; the trees have grown with me. Or, I have grown with the trees.
I miss them already.
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