Don't Take Away My Storm Art

A few months ago, a storm brought down an enormous piece of a tree in front of a house on Grace Street. I walked around it for days, wondering why the city or the homeowner didn't move it out of the way.

And then one day, it had been moved up and laid down on the little front yard of a house. The piece of tree was huge; it was easily 12' long, with branches making it maybe 6' wide.

A few days later, I noticed someone had wrapped colorful ribbons around some of the trunk and branches. Then parts of it were painted a variety of colors. Eventually, little pieces of mirror were hung from the branches. Additional shards of mirror were laid under and behind the tree.

Because I passed by the tree on my daily walk, I was able to notice every time something new was added. Like the twinkle lights. And, once holiday season arrived, vintage-looking Christmas balls in blue and pink. The storm debris tree had become bona fide public art.

A friend joined me on my walk last week and when we came abreast of it, he made no comment; so I pointed it out, telling him how much pleasure I got from seeing it every day. It was as pleasurable in the rain and snow as it was in the sunshine.

So I was shocked today when, upon approaching it, I saw that the poor tree scrap was practically naked. Only ribbons and paint remained on the trunk.

A girl stood near the tree on the porch surveying it, so I figured she was the person to ask. "You're not taking it down, are you?" I asked, probably sounding inappropriately desperate.

"No, no," she said reassuringly. "But it's been so wet lately, it was looking kind of bad. When I walked by, it was making me more sad than happy."

"So it's just getting a facelift, then?" I inquired. She nodded. "Exactly."

Good thing. You can't spoil me with yard art and then take it away. Well, you can, but that block would never be the same.

From the wrath of the weather gods to Grace Street, art for passers-by. I get it. In fact, I love it.