I planted a pirul tree for my grandmother about thirty years ago. It stood splendidly along the fence line, attracting passersby to its low-hanging branches which hovered over the curb. Any bold pedestrian took to grabbing a cutting from the tree.
For those not familiar with the tree, its branches have a supposed cleansing effect: If you're going through a rough patch, a barrida with a pirul branch will free your body of bad vibes, seemingly.
The rough winds that landed in Laredo on June 28 dealt our tree a fatal blow. It endured three decades of brutal Laredo heat. It stood a soft feature against the rough edges of my barrio.
My grandmother's former property is more bare now. The vestiges of a former time are fading. The family tree, like our featured blog post specimen, has lost a few battles lately. From here until my own demise, I can only honor those that brought me to this point and the things that brought us together.
Thank you for reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment