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An old tree is in the process of guzzling my house. This old tree is as old as my house. About a hundred years. Although it is the same species, it does not resemble the majestic Douglas Fir my ancestors came west to log 150 years ago. It is dwarfed and arthritic from the many times it has been pruned to avoid its growing into the power lines it has since devoured. Nothing grows underneath the tree save some ivy, which is also attempting to overthrow my house. This tree overshadows my front door. Fall through Spring, all manner of twigs, mud and fir needles get tramped throughout the house - finding their homes in the holes in the linoleum floor, cracks in the wooden stairs and getting stuck in the carpetting. Not that I allow the dirt to pile up, it is just impossible to keep clean when there is a small forest right outside my door. Sometimes the raccoons that fight underneath my porch spend the night in the knob of the tree. I have looked up from taking the recycling to see their eyes glimmering.

Squirrel

excerpted from:

squirrel

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to see or read more, contact the artist to order a copy of Modern Candor.

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© 2011 Lenae Day