When the Bough Breaks

Front porch light, check.  Breezeway lights, check.  Back door light, check.  Locks -- check, check, check.  I looked out the window as heavy snow fell Monday night and huge flakes swirled fast and furious, piling on the ground.  Then, after checking on Clara, I headed to bed.

Spencer was out of town for the week, making it a little more unsettling than usual when I heard strange noises outside during Clara's 3 am feeding.  I wondered if there was someone in the backyard, but the last thing I wanted to do was look and find out.  Not wanting to scare myself, I chalked it up to icicles falling off the gutters and headed back to bed when Clara was done.

Morning came with blue skies and sunshine and 15 plus inches of snow on the ground.  I headed out to shovel and immediately noticed that something wasn't right.  Sure enough, our two large backyard trees had each broken under the weight of the snow. 

It was just too much for them to bear. 

I was nervous for the large branch resting on the house right over the dining room, and heartbroken at the thought of losing these trees - even if it were just a branch at a time.  It might sound strange, but these trees were part of what I loved about this house.  They each had a branch for a swing and one seemed like it would be a perfect treehouse tree someday.

Thankfully my dad came over after work with his chain saw and relieved the trees of their sagging limbs, and our home of any potential danger.  So far we haven't realized any significant damage from the incident, other than to the trees themselves.  Needless to say, I am ready for spring.