Our neighbors had to cut down a beautiful hundred year-old hemlock that shaded their yard and also shaded ours. It had succumbed to the insidious woolly adelgid. Our neighbors said it felt like they’d lost a friend. We felt that way too. We’ve lived in this house since Ruth was born in 1994 and the hemlock had overseen our children grow up and generations of children before ours. When the arborists were cutting it down, I asked if they could cut us a piece to keep. The guy smiled and said sure. He was sweet about it, like he’d dealt with more than a few customers who had tender feelings about losing what amounted to a piece of themselves. Later that day the doorbell rang and the same guy, now covered in sweat and sawdust, held a beautiful huge disc from the trunk. I nearly toppled over when he handed it to me.