The Death of Spock

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NEW PROMPT:
Write a story or poem about something you find on your lawn after a violent storm.
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While working in the office at the back of my home, I was oblivious to the wind storm raging outside. That is, until I heard a loud, horrendous crash from the front of the small building.

Carefully stepping over my cats racing frantically through the office doorway, I made my way down the hall, into the kitchen, and finally into my front room. Since the sun, although mostly hidden by storm clouds, was up for hours, I expected to see the front yard through the long, bedroom window.

In shock, all I could see was Spock, lying splat on the ground only inches from the glass. Did I mention that Spock was the gigantic cedar tree in the corner of my front yard? I gave him that name after I saw all the green moss all over his trunk. Made sense to me, for what else would I name it?

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My feline mob used Spock’s long limbs as a jungle gym for years, while avoiding the eight melodious wind chimes I had hung there. The tree removal people later told me the chimes had not brought down the tree. They said something about critters eating Spock’s roots, such that the wind only had to puff on the tree to bring it down that day.

Once I went outside and saw where the tree was, I realized how much worse the crash could have been. This huge tree had fallen between my home and that of the neighbors next door. Heavy limbs were lying on the roofs of both homes and on top of the fence in between our yards. One limb even took out the electric box on the side of my home before crashing down onto my tile roof. I was extremely lucky that limb had not continued down through the roof, since it would have landed on my bed where I was only half an hour earlier. In that case, squash one Judity!

I was without electricity for almost a week during cold, rainy November. The electric box, so I was told, wouldn’t be replaced until Spock was removed. It took all of a week to cut the gigantic tree up, as I stood inside at the bedroom window crying as my beautiful Spock was hauled away piece by piece. I did manage to salvage one of the long limbs, and it’s laid out on the front yard to the annoyance of the person I hire to periodically mow the grass. Since Spock crashed back in 2003, this limb is keeping its memory alive for me even though it is dead.

That year was eventful for many reasons. Mum died in February, and I had brain tumor surgery in September. Perhaps, all in all then, the loss of a tree was a minor blip in my life, but I still remember clearly the death of Spock.

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Microsoft Word count = 511

"The Writer's Cramp - Poetry Week"  daily entry for 03/10/11
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