. . .and just because I’m paranoid, it doesn’t mean they’re not.
I may have mentioned before that I have Wizard of Oz trees.
You remember that scene, right? In the apple orchard? Somebody–the scarecrow, I think–says something insulting to the trees, and the next thing you know, our heroes are being pelted with apples. The bombardment drives them out of the orchard and further on down the Yellow Brick Road.
What happens at my house is somewhat more sinister–because I don’t recall any insulting words being passed prior to the attacks.
My arboreal acquaintances began their campaign innocently enough. Sweetgum balls and acorns dropped onto the driveway and the lawn. This is somewhat hazardous to lawn mower blades but in the natural order of things, right? To be expected.
In short order, however, we began to notice that the balls, beads and seeds tended to fall in surprisingly close proximity to our heads whenever we were outside. Almost as if the trees were taking aim.
So, okay, that’s a bit paranoid. Just a matter of happenstance, surely.
Why, then, on a dry and totally windless day, would a sweetgum limb crash down on the driveway mere minutes after I had walked beneath it? The timing was such that it brought a group of teenage boys racing across the road, certain they were going to have a chance to rescue me (or, perhaps, steal my ruby slippers).
And why, on a subsequent dry and totally windless day, would another sweetgum limb crash down on the driveway mere seconds before the MotH* backed the car through that exact spot?
So, that summer (last one) went on like that with branches falling here and there with no provocation.
This summer has been less prone to arboreal accidents. I’d almost forgotten that the trees are out to get me.
But yesterday, I parked in my cousin’s driveway under a hickory tree. There’s now a fifty-cent-piece size dent in the hood of my car. It’s from a hickory nut. I’d say a “fallen hickory nut,” except it is clear to me that it was thrown with great force.
I’m just issuing a fair warning to all the timber in my vicinity. There’s a chain saw in the garage–and such a thing as self-defense.
Watch yourselves.
* Man of the House
