Adi is our jokester. Her bed is next to a window that faces our backyard. For the past few nights she has avoided bedtime by telling us a tree fell in the backyard.
At the end of what had been a long mid week snow day, I sat rocking Rose to sleep, for the second time. Arnauld made his way upstairs with the other girls- all ready for bed. He’s not usually home to help with bedtime during the week. I listened as he tucked them in too quickly, he wanted to get outside to shovel. Almost as soon as he was out their door, they were whining about how he didn’t tuck them in right.
I whisper yelled to the girls that I would be right in for a proper tuck. They continued to protest.
Arnauld made his way back upstairs, I held my breath worried he would make it worse. He had been working from home all day, among the chaos that comes with three kids cooped up all day, and now needed to get out to shovel the driveway.
As I heard his footsteps approach Wren and Adi’s bedroom, Adi casually announced, “The tree falled,” just as she had several other nights this week.
I rolled my eyes and kept rocking Rose, praying she’d stay asleep through the shenanigans.
“Jess, come see,” Arnauld said almost laughing. I couldn’t believe he was playing along. It had been a long snowy day and I had very little patience left.
I ignored them.
Arnauld’s footsteps came closer. Now he was in the bathroom looking out that window.
“Are you being serious?” I whisper yelled again.
“Yeah,” he said poking his head into Rose’s room. He had a goofy grin on his face.
I stood up with Rose, needing to get some answers for myself.
Sure enough, a huge tree had fallen, dividing our yard in half. We hadn’t heard a thing. This giant seemed to fall gracefully, right on top of our swing set.
I stood at the bathroom window in shock. I didn’t even realize that Wren and Adi had come in. “It’s so funny!” Wren kept saying. “I’m going to tell my teacher, and my whole class, and the lunch ladies!”
“I’m scared,” Adi said pushing herself into my side. “Can we move to a new house where the trees won’t fall?”
After reassuring everyone that everything was going to be just fine, I found myself laying in Adi’s bed- for protection.
Adi fell asleep pretty quickly, exhausted by the day and feeling safe by my measly presence. Wren blabbed away for what seemed like forever. “I’ll be talking about this for years,” she professed right before dozing off.
I laid staring out the window, marveling at the beauty of that fallen tree, covered in snow. In the morning, I know it won’t look to pretty and the reality of the mess left behind will sink in.
As Wren said, “This is a story for our scrapbook.”
Where There Is Joy 
Oh. Trees falling are both amazing and frightening. A few years ago, we took down two huge oak trees in our front yard for fear of them falling right into our house. Every wind storm, we thank our decision to do so (We also planted two smaller replacement trees).
Kevin
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Isn’t it amazing that you all didn’t hear the tree fall? Also, amazing that Adi predicted it. I’d listen to her from now on! I love the way you capture the moment by using the girls’ words. I felt as though I was right there with you.
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I know! I’m now wandering about her psychic abilities!
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Your told this slice so slowly with lots of emotion – especially the emotion of bedtime “after a long day cooped in side”. I love scene of you rolling your eyes and then begrudgingly making your way to the bathroom window – you told it slowly, with great word choice! The ending is proof that your family is always on the hunt for stories! Thanks for sharing!
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I loved the “whisper yelled.” I heard your voice just perfectly!
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The emotion of the day is captured perfectly. I can almost picture the giant tree falling in slow motion as the snow swirls around it. Definitely a scrapbook moment.
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“Whisper yelled” cracked me up, too, Jen. I live in fear of losing our beloved Japanese maple, which isn’t terribly old. It is so delicate that I worry even the slightest bit of snow will bring it down. I just returned in from shaking off as much of last night’s terribly heavy snow from it’s frail branches and reveled at watching them rise slowly, triumphantly. Watching them, I thought I should slice about that. Thanks for the unintentioned nudge!
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reveled at watching them rise slowly, triumphantly
That’s beautiful already!
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Thanks, Jen. I used it like soup our sourdough starter. Many thanks to you for your inspiration!
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Wow, what a story! Like your other readers, I too enjoyed how you unfolded this story bit by bit. Beginning with the prophetic joke of a child- so great! And the excitement to tell this story to the lunchladies- priceless! The grown-up reality you allude to toward the end is real, and I wish you and your family the best of luck with the clean up. I’ve got a fallen tree (covered in poison ivy) lying in my back yard that I’ve yet to deal with, so I can identify with your plight. Thanks for sharing this wonderful slice!
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I love how you “whisper yelled” to your girls.
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