Plastic Tree

In what had been a bit of a pandemic-induced homebound obsession, I found myself staring out my window frequently, seeking as much nature to watch as possible in an urban landscape. 

Sometime in January 2021 I watched a very large piece of heavy plastic film fly across my view and quickly become entangled in the tree across the street. 

I was outraged, of course, by this apparent construction site debris forcing itself onto my beautiful tree. Then I thought, well, maybe the tree has a reason to hang onto the plastic, as though it were a shawl against the winter winds. 

It was also possible the tree, clinging steadfastly to its shawl, was rather intent on saving lives, for such a large piece of heavy plastic flying into the traffic half a block away on a major thoroughfare could have led to a horrible tragedy or two or many.

Spring and summer brought abundance of leaves on the tree, obscuring the presence of that ugly entanglement. By the next winter, bare limbs revealed the plastic wrap had been broken into two pieces, and then into three smaller pieces. The wind was helping scrape off the mess it made.

Finally, two years after landing in the tree, the plastic shroud has been shed. The large, lethal pieces had been broken down and were easily disentangled from the happy tree, standing proudly with all its naked limbs, branches, and twigs in the golden sunset.

2021

2022

2023

Two Years Entangled

The afternoon was cold and windy
as any wintry scene should expect
except when what of autumn 
remained was a warming amber sunset.

Tree didn’t mind, but Wind mistook
its shimmer for a shiver.
Attempting gallantry, Wind stole
a plastic stole, a wrap removed
from nearby construction scrap.

Unaccustomed to attention,
particularly such condescension,
Tree exclaimed “Untangle me,
you rascal! Who do you think 
you are, Eddie Haskell?”

Tree sighed and resumed her business
of building branches and limbering her
limbs, twigs, and such with which to bud
new leaves and bark and seeds come spring. 

Unaccustomed to inattention, 
Wind howled, asserting his affection 
with a gusty wave by way of a flirt,
tangling the plastic stole into a shroud.

Tree’s seasons of branching and budding
began to tear at her plastic torment,
and Wind perceived his love’s futility.
At last he offered some lusty utility.

A second autumn’s shedding
revealed the plastic’s shredding,
then winter’s stringent scrapings
brought Tree back her natural brilliance.

Enamored Wind whispered best wishes,
a gentle nod to Tree’s resilience. 

cgw ~ March 17, 2023

Update, April 5:

Yesterday. I think the Plastic Tree just can't help itself.