Gemotions

The silence that followed the crash was almost more unsettling than the noise itself. I walked out onto my porch, phone already in hand, and saw the devastation. A huge, older sycamore – gone. Smashed.

I lowered my phone, the urge to dial 911 momentarily forgotten. I stood there, motionless. It wasn’t a matter of what had happened, I understood that part. It was the feeling it left, a profound sense of wrongness.

My fingers traced the rim of the railing. Something didn't quite fit. The way the tree had fallen, the complete lack of warning, the clean break…it was peculiar.