RAMBLINGS OF THE MIND
“You sound like a minister sir, but yes, I agree.”
“I have been here for years, and I never saw a new tree planted. Not one.” Strauss mumbled, “Although I see flowers and gardens made in strategic places.”
“They are beautiful sir, I must admit.”
“Yes, but we are talking about cutting trees now, and the beauty of the flowers will never compensate for the cutting of the tree.”
Bob was quiet, he was in deep thought. He started looking around… and shivered.
“Was it a cedar sir, that they fell that day?”
“Yes, in fact it was a cedar. Why?”
“Well, sir, I think I saw the trunk. That must be Twiggee.”
“Yes,” Strauss sobbed softly, unabashedly.
And his thoughts were back to that fateful day when they came to cut Twiggee.
“In the mid-afternoon that summer day, the people stopped and sat down and ate their sandwiches.”
“Trish shouted at me like it was the end of the world. Not that she was used to shouting, but so I could hear her amidst the noise of the chainsaw.”
“Strauss, are they c-c-c-cutting me now? Are th-th-th-they felling me now? Please, I d-d-d-don’t want to die…”
brum-brum-brum-brum-brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
“Trish, don’t you worry. It’s not you. It’s not you.”
“Are you s-s-s-sure, Strauss?” Trish is now frantic, listening to the chainsaw noise which is becoming louder and louder every minute.
“Look all around you, Trish. All trees around you have dead branches. The branches are likely to snap off and fly through the air, if you fall on those trees. These flying limbs are called widow-makers. Cutters avoid those. So if they cut you, the only logical direction of the fall is towards me. And they wouldn’t allow you to drop right on top of the most intelligent bench on this park. You feel me, Trish?” Trish was quiet, unsure of what to say.
“If they want to cut you, the first thing they do is to clear a working space around your butt and prepare an escape path. Then they do a brushing out, or clip off small brushes close to the ground,” Strauss explained with the clarity of a college professor. He continued, “But, they are not doing any of that to you. Understand? So don’t worry, they are not felling you. You feel me, Trish?”
brum-brum-brum-brum-brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
For a moment her simple mind was trying to comprehend the complicated things on her head. She looked down. It was when she stopped trembling that she started shouting…
”T-t-t-t-t-t-twig g-g-g-g-gee-e-e-e-e-e-e!”
“Strauss, they’re c-c-c-cutting Twiggee. I’m f-f-f-feeling her roots shaking now.”
That day there were no crepuscular rays radiating from the sun, but blood-coloured trunk and timber lying all around what used to be Twiggee.”
Strauss saw tears, and knew Bob was crying. He didn’t stop him. He waited, just like what he’d do when people sit on him and cried ever so softly.