Oak Tree Friend



At the beginning of April, when summoned back to work in the office a few days a week, I started to prepare the illustrations for an installment of The Last Man project by taking pictures from the B train of my beloved oak tree friend, which resembles one that a character in the novel kisses good-by. Many people have them, not just the lonely: trees that stand out in particular to a person, tugging the heart into giving a daily salute: Hello my friend.

In time a rapport develops, they call out to us too.

We’re attached to our tree friends and fear for them in storms; after long absence we tremble to approach them lest we find stump and sawdust where they’d stood—it’s been observed to happen—and give thanks to find them still in place, faithful friends, sending themselves into leaf again for our mutual renewal.

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