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I think that I shall never see a scene as lovely as the field with the tree Date published: 6/13/2008 By Cathy Dyson EVERY TIME I drive by the field where a giant tree was uprooted last week, I feel like I've lost a friend. I've looked at the hole in the ground and the tree on its side at least twice a day for more than a week now, and I get the same sense The huge tree--I think it was an oak--came down with hundreds of others during the violent weather last week. What made this one so special was its setting. It should have been in the dictionary next to "bucolic" or "pastoral" because it certainly defined those terms in my mind. The tree stood in a field off Sumerduck Road in southern Fauquier County. It grew in the middle of one of several fenced-off fields, amid small rolling hills. Black Angus sought comfort under the tree's outspread limbs, and so did the occasional horse. If you were really lucky, The tree and surrounding scenery almost always made me smile. When I passed it in the mornings, I'd think how lucky I was to see such That one patch of dirt with the big tree in the middle also made me feel like there was an oasis or two out there. Even with When the tree came down, I wondered how many years--even decades--it took to reach its massive height. I thought about all the other trees, sugar maples and sycamores from Culpeper to Colonial Beach that were felled in an instant. As I filled our small trailer and plastic wading pool--twice--with branches and sticks that fell in our yard, I was struck by the sheer volume of a tree. I know lots of people lost more than shade when trees hit their homes and garages. We saw evidence of this all along our road, as well as pines on top of fences and cedar branches dangling from power lines. Thankfully, the massive tree in the field didn't hurt anyone or anything as it came down. But it sure did change one beautiful view. Cathy Dyson: 540/374-5425
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