We noticed last week that the river was higher than we remember seeing it, and the recent rain forced it over its banks. Memorial Park is flooded. Bridges are under water, islands have disappeared, the stage is surrounded by water, the top of Preacher's Rock is a small island in the middle of a pool. There are lots of people walking around the park, some looking amazed, some looking a bit dazed.

Proper exploration required just the right boots.


Of course, even the perfect boots can only handle so much water.

As I made my way across the yard to the compost pile this afternoon I was thinking about tulips and sunshine. I was totally unprepared to see, as I rounded the corner of the garage, that our old peach tree had not survived the recent storm. I stumbled and stared and for a split second of disbelief thought some other tree must've lost a really big branch.


I feel a bit silly to admit how much affection I have for this tree and how sad I am to see it sprawled across the grass. I'm wondering if my neighbor, who grew up in this house and planted many of the trees in our yard, is sad to see it too.

Jon, Rowan, and Dagny gave me a peach tree a few years ago, so happily there will still be peaches for the Kreams.



But I'll miss the gnarly old tree that gave me my very first warm-from-the-sunshine peach.