Slowly Dying

The chestnut tree out front, chronicled in blog posts from 2018 and the eponymous Chestnut War, continues to die. Now at an accelerated rate. A large branch maybe five feet long from break to leaf tip fell off one sunny September afternoon. No storms that day so I guessed just a sudden snap of wind. or just the sudden chaos we invoke hypothetically. That branch got "hit by a bus."

The tree has a complete and lovely overall superstructure. At the end of the intersection of Addington and West 120th, one can see it from seven house lengths away and it looks like a lovely tree with a tight bobbing outline against the houses. Its a tree you would see features on a logo. Closer up, however, you can see the patchy empty boughs where entire leaves have withered away. These are big hurting bald spots on the tree where the park curls up form the branches and lichen takes over where wood hasn't frayed. Up close it has this melting snow cone look where flakes of snow have melted and refrozen together, albeit briefly, to come up with a jagged canopy.

Summer 2021 and the tree was loaded with the wispy pipe cleaner flowers. All through August there was that perfume fairy piss smell but that boon turned into few nuts. Likely the neighbors have plundered most of them (My wife swears they are the ones who broke the big branch) but just enough to fill a cereal bowl. A big cereal bowl, mind you. A real two scoops of real raisins and flakes kind of bowl, but a cereal bowl nonetheless. Each year they have dwindled in amount and also in value. From  a precious crop to just a novelty. They taste sloppy chalky when roasted, but with enough sugar I can try to make homemade orgeat. That is a nutty syrup usually made with almonds but could be an artisanal blend made with actual chestnuts. Or even peanuts for this circus feeling kind of drink. The handful of nuts should be enough for that. And, if any other ersatz ones do fall, I can add it to the seeping pile in the vial. 

I imagine that the next five to seven summers will see more branches slough off. Maybe ones big enough to block the driveway or other wise actively inconvenience the house. Bit by bit it will clockwork out into a stumpy snag with snarled branches and just one section with leaves. There will be less actual chestnut husks by this point, but I will never be so brave to head out there barefoot. It would just make for an even more elaborate story. The one branch dropping the one last chestnut grenade. Even a glancing blow will send someone hobbling.