The trees have given up. Really, it’s too hot. They’re over it.
It’s seems like our grass here in Central Texas just won’t grow. The trees can’t take the heat. This branch from a cedar elm was shed in desperation, if trees can experience such a thing. Over 40 days with temperatures on or above 100˚F (40˚C). I have long since melted.
I arrived home to find that over half of my family’s trees have died from oak wilt, and now branches are falling. That feels sad; it feels like something I want to complain about. Then I see something like the video below from a shelter in Mogadishu where 300 families are struggling against famine and social unrest, scraping out lives in bombed out hovels. I think about haves and have-nots. I think about where I left almost a month ago. I still can’t make it all make sense.
I will say this. In this hot, hot place I’ve landed there is kindness and delight and rest. I promise to be sharing more of that soon. Thanks for sticking with me.