Lightning struck the tree in our backyard years ago, and it's been slowly dying ever since, despite my best efforts to save it.

Yesterday we had it removed. I find myself saddened by the small mound of mulch that covers the familiar corner of the yard.

It wasn't a particuarly beautiful tree. I didn't have any strong emotional investment; it was here when we bought the house.

So why am I sad it's gone?

I think because it was a part of me. A part of what I experience every day; of what I think of as normal, mine, ours, 'this place'. It's very hard to verbalize.

I told our 9 year old granddaughter that the tree had put on it's sunglasses, pulled up it's root-legs and walked out the back gate, gone to vacation in Florida.

The saddest thing was, for the first time she didn't say, 'Ah GrandPa' at my joke. She said 'No it didn't' and went back to playing on her computer.

Life goes on.