Today is sunny though still a bit chilly. I am almost convinced spring has come to stay. All this February I was apprehensive, remembering that horrendous freeze a year ago. So unexpected it was, the city was not ready to deal with it, and not much has been done since, should another such extreme weather hit us, so commonplace, it seems, everywhere any more. Here’s a poem I wrote on Valentine’s Day last year.
~ ~ ~
AFTER THE FEBRUARY ICESTORM IN AUSTIN, TEXAS 2023
Such a lovely surprise to see baby leaves this morning
come through those once frozen barks this Valentine’s Day!
Were we to be like trees, how wonderful that would be,
recovering year after year, shedding and renewing ourselves.
These days, though, it’s harder even for them, with weather
going crazy, erratic and unpredictable, for them and for us.
This was a warm winter. We were coddled as if by spring,
and by January, new leaves were appearing on bare limbs.
Then, came the storm. Overnight, spring back to winter!
All their limbs were frozen: a beautiful scene for us, until
we lost our power. The house was freezing, and the lights
were out, no television, no internet, no news.
We escaped to a friend’s warm house and waited,
fortunate that all our pets got along, and food was still available.
The trees endured the cold, but their limbs fell, one by one,
old ones with old leaves, new ones with new leaves, fell on top
of each other. When we tidied up afterwards, we had a large hedge
of broken limbs, as did all the neighbors, such devastation, and yet
the sun was out. It will take the city a long time to come to collect them,
grind them up into sawdust so we won’t have to look at them again.
It was frighteningly warm again, and again we will forget the wounds
left on trees and the destruction the severe weather wrought.
How many more unexpected storms will our trees survive?
How many will we?
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