Fragments From Floyd

There was a walnut in front of the barn above the creek... good sized but smaller than the huge one beside the barn. It seemed anchored solidly in the rocky soil, had been there through the storms of at least fifty years. But one day three years ago this month, in a late summer thunderstorm, I watched out the window as it came crashing down, roots lifting out of wet ground, falling across both the creek and the road. When the lightning moved on and the rains slowed, I cut and hauled the treetop away from the road. I left the bole of the tree intact, and later in the day, called our friend Lynn, who was always looking for lumber from which she would craft beautiful furniture and cabinets. She had it planked into boards. Today her house has a magnificent walnut desk and massive walnut bookshelves. A friend finished the work she had started on these pieces after she died quite unexpectedly. I'll never know if it was our walnut that went into her last beautiful creations. I'd like to think so.