My mom called this morning to tell me about tree damages at their house. A large palm tree toppled and sadly, my favorite tree, the Jacaranda, is damaged and leaning to one side. I love that tree. I climbed it as a child and even when I got older I would sit in it. My parents have swings and hammocks hanging from it. Every Spring the tree is covered in thousands of tiny violent flowers that like like little horns. As soon as then fall they begin to brown at the edges and carpet the front lawn. I think the reason purple is my favorite color is because of that tree. The seed pods from the tree are rock-hard and shaped like oysters, but chocolate brown. If you can get one to open the seeds are tiny and covered in a papery sheath. My old chapbook The Papered Seed Inside the Stone directly referenced those seed pods. The tree trunk rises about six feet before splitting. Right at the split it forms a saddle. When we were young my dad would sit us in the saddle. I don't know it that was so much fun, but it was. We'd sit and my dad would run around the tree. I hope the tree can be saved. I talked to my dad, he's going to see if it can be saved. Mourning a tree before it has even fallen. It is one of those mornings. No matter what I do, December always punches me in the gut.