Surviving Katrina

by Bradley

Let me introduce myself. My name is Bradley and I am John's Bradford pear tree. My parents aren't very original. Do you know how many Bradford pear trees are named Bradley?

Anyway, I am writing from my branch office, get it, branch office? John asked me to tell my story about Hurricane Katrina last August and he is allowing me to post the story on his blog. I promised him I wouldn't do anything shady. Get it, shady?

I may be joking around now, but last August 29th I was shaking like a leaf. Even my leaves were shaking like a leaf. I had seen some wind before, but this wasn't just a couple of strong gusts, it was serious.

I am a fairly young tree and I was lucky enough to be sheltered by some other trees, so I survived. However, early Monday morning one of my friends, Stick, couldn't hold on and he broke off and fell. It was a terrible sound.

I looked over and saw him falling my way. I closed my eyes and braced myself. I felt pain and heard a huge thud as Stick hit the ground. I was surrounded by the remains of Stick and when he fell, he took a couple of my branches with him. It really hurt, but the wounds were not fatal.

Here are a few thumbnails of what it looked like after Stick fell on me. Click the photos to see a larger version, but then you probably already know that.

It was a terrible time for a tree in those days. From where I stood, all I could see were fallen friends and the ones left standing were injured - me included. The worst of it was that awful sound of chainsaws. Oh that awful sound, I don’t suppose I will ever forget it.

John used a chainsaw himself to cut Stick into pieces and haul him off. I hated to see Stick chopped up like that, but it was too late for him and it had to be done if were going to thrive. It is hard to imagine how I got through those days, but things are better now.

Here are two thumbnails of the damage closer up. One is with my friend Bear. Bear is so nice, he even gives me water every now and then, but it tastes a bit acidic.

Life sure can throw things at you, but if you have strong roots you have a good chance of surviving, but life is much more than surviving. Life is about living and that is what I intend to do. I may be damaged, but the rest of me is going to grow toward the heavens. My green foliage is going to make a beautiful contrast with the blue sky. Birds will take up refuge in my branches and I will block the sun on those hot afternoons when John needs to rest after working in the yard.

This spring I feel those feelings again from the tip of my roots to the end of my branches. I am blooming and I am alive. I hope you are blooming too, life is too short to dwell on past tragedies, we only have this moment so enjoy it.

Yours truly
Bradley

Remembering an old friend

One year ago today is when we had Hobo put to sleep. It is funny how a time of the year with its smells and feel refreshes the memories. It was a very sad time, not just one day.

We had struggled with making the decision for some time. When we did decide, I had a lump in my throat the entire last week.

I remember all of it vividly, but we gave him dignity and said goodbye the best we could. I read over the posts of that time and was reminded of so many things.

Hobo was a good dog. He was a family member and he left a big hole in our hearts. The garden I made in his honor keeps his memory alive and I am very glad I constructed it.

Much sooner than we anticipated, Bear came on to the scene. I suppose we will honor Hobo by taking a long walk today. Hobo took his last walk a year ago. His hind legs were so weak he fell a few times. Dogs sure love the simple pleasure of walking around their neighborhood, sniffing and peeing. I like taking them.

So here is to an old friend, you are still loved pups and I am looking forward to the day we meet again.

Until the next time
John Strain

Can you say bizarre?

Kimberly Butler Released From Jail
Orleans Parish Clerk of Criminal Court Kimberly Williamson Butler is a free woman after serving a 3-day sentence for contempt of court. She compared herself among many heroes like Rosa Parks, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Gandhi, and Nelson Mandela.

Oh yeah, she is also running for Mayor of New Orleans.

If you want a good laugh (even though it is really sad) watch her. Listen to what she has to say in her own words.

Click here for video

NOLA dot com article about Kimberly Butler

No one could make this stuff up.

Until the next time
John Strain

Yesterday's story

Morning Has Broken - Cat Stevens

Some days I am more aware than other days about how glad I am to be alive. On those days, I take everything my senses give me and savor the experience like a fine wine.

Wednesday was such a time. After the usual routine of getting up and making the coffee, I went out for my run. I was supposed to run 6 miles on a hilly course. This assignment took me off of the measured course and freed me from the clock.

Usually, I am checking my stopwatch and making adjustments; most of the time, I push myself. The result is a good workout, but one that is not entirely comfortable.

This day, I was running by feel. Up the hills easy, and down quickly and smoothly. As I ran, the sun rose. I watched color come to my neighborhood as the sun climbed above the horizon.

The air was perfect. It was cool, but not cold. A breeze washed over me and the feeling on my face and skin was soothing. The breeze carried fragrances of spring and I breathed them into my lungs.

I ran to the river and witnessed a hazy cove by the boat launch. The sun was shining brightly by now and the morning haze both exposed the rainbow of sun rays and made the placid water appear fuzzy.

An egret lazily flew across the water into the sunlight. I watched its white form morph into silhouette as the light changed from foreground to background.

As I continued running down a shaded lane, I was feeling good so I picked up the pace. About that time, I passed an older couple. The man said, "I used to run like you. When you get this old you will be doing this," referring to his walking. I just yelled back over my shoulder, "I sure hope so sir."

It was a spring day, I was out in it, I was part of it, and I was grateful.

So many things change. They get old and die or they just wear out and fall into disrepair. Still every year, I marvel at the azaleas, tulips, magnolias, and gardenias. They are the same as they were when I was young. They will be the same in 100 years.

Nature changes, yet it stays the same. Maybe that is why it is so refreshing and renewing. Each spring is like the first one. I know, Cat Stevens wrote a song about it:

Morning has Broken

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day

Until the next time
John Strain

A cup of coffee and a slice of my life

There is a story to go with these pictures, but I don't have time to write it right now. I will do that tomorrow. For today, enjoy these photos.

Blooms in the destruction - Hope.

A squirrel eats his breakfast in my live oak tree

An azalea bloom backlit by the morning sun

We live in a beautiful world. Life and hope abounds if you look for it.

Until the next time
John Strain