Title : Meade texts me a photo of the backyard, and I squint at the image. Did a huge branch of the oak tree just fall down?
link : Meade texts me a photo of the backyard, and I squint at the image. Did a huge branch of the oak tree just fall down?
Meade texts me a photo of the backyard, and I squint at the image. Did a huge branch of the oak tree just fall down?
Home, I hurry through to the deck that overlooks the yard from the second floor, and nothing seems to have changed. Meade is casually raking the semi-circular yard. What was I seeing in that photograph? That's the view from the roof — which is 3 floors above the ground. I'd been out walking the shores of Lake Mendota one more time...
He knows I don't like to think of him up on the roof, and I guess he took advantage of my absence to climb out there and clear the gutters.
Here's a view — from last February — of how that branch looks from the second floor — that is, how I see it for many hours every day — to give you an idea of how weird that texted photograph looked to me:
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