Reclamation
I'd given up the sentinel weathervane on the 6" x 6" post in front when the storm blew it over. Fungus got it at its base though it was mounted in a deep bed of I thought protective cement. It was 2006 and I was getting back on my feet after an overhaul of my heart. I'd been flattened by that for a year and I thought the death of the tamarack tree in the back yard while I was down and the felling of this decorative post or totem, weakened, ready to topple were symptoms of my own brush with a terminus. The magical lichen on the dead tree, previously reported, (pieces of which were offered) covers the boney branches, beautifully. I will not be cutting it ruinously down as long as it can stand as an iron skeleton on its own. But it's been OK to have the painted weathervane post mouldering right where it fell, in a ground-cover bed of myrtle. [Lodge members, take note.]
But I've been looking at it from time to time and since I've been living (weathering) now for a surprising while, I thought I should bring the post inside out of the elements and into the living room. It's now here where the sewer raccoon news is written on my old Singer sewing machine desktop.
As of today, the fallen post stands propped up in a nearby alcove, proclaiming its willingness to continue making a vertical and now sheltered contribution to my esthetics. This standing addition is largely due to my son's willingness to lend me a hand cutting it down with his chain saw to 87 inches where the post fits into this recess, regally.
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