A beautiful old tree collapsed over the creek in the park like a bridge erected for all the critters, esp. the squirrels to hide, play and have a shortcut crossing to the other side.
While exploring parts of the fallen tree workers had sawed in preparation to remove, I was re-introduced to a little fellow on a small bicycle. I had seen him around town on many occasions. He was always smiling, always a happy fellow. Today, he watched me and the fallen tree with that same enthusiasm from the other side when I finally spoke to him about the tree, he wondered about it.
The tree fell during the cold stormy spell around Christmas probably the day the wind gusts felt like a tornado when I was bicycling to Food Lion and got soaking wet.
I finally learned his name, a complicated name (for me) I cannot recall because it never registered in my brain nor could I pronounce it to remember it unless I happen to read it on paper.
When he crossed the bridge to the other side on his tiny bicycle and where I was standing on the tree, I jumped down and wished him goodbye, that we would meet again, and sauntered away into the sunset.