The End is the Beginning
Someone poisoned our trees. Not all of them. Just the ones along the boundary of our native garden. We came back from holiday and found the trees on the edge covered with browning leaves — while everything around them was healthy and untouched. Two had already been struggling: one died back and resprouted from the roots, the other started growing an entirely new form, as if trying to find a different way of living. We had been watching them with a kind of cautious attention for months. But...
