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Drawing: Graphite, Pencil on Paper.
I walk past a tree in a hedge most mornings when walking my dog. It is a forgetful tree: its size unimpressive; its shape lacking aesthetics; its canopy inadequate. It is noticed only because of the need to duck past one particular limb. I barely acknowledge its tree.
One morning, with boots crunching winter frost, I duck the branch that is no longer there. The tree, mostly decimated, the branch, shattered. There is more light along that path, and I no longer have to duck. Little remains of the tree in the hedge but for a few tattered sticks and this shattered limb.