a tale of two oaks

I was still in my bathrobe early yesterday morning, when an old a friend appeared knocking at the door.  Margey needed a big favor and was in a hurry. Could she use the truck and have me help her help move a bed?  So, without brushing my hair, my teeth or even shaving, I pulled my jeans on and we jumped into my truck.

Margey was in town, for a brief period because her mother had just passed.  We rode over to her family's large bayfront home to pick-up a bed from the guest room - to help facilitate an elderly friend of Margey's who was in dire straights - who had been sleeping on a strato-lounger for the past two years inside a moldy trailer, and who was now, close to being evicted - and Margey, being Margey - was just reaching out, as always, helping others.

The elderly "Miss" Nancy was living way below the line, not being cared for by her sons - and who,  several years before, had shot her husband in a domestic argument which had led to her immediate economic downfall.  Finally, the old strato-lounger was pulled out of the small cramped back room, left outside - and a new mattress and frame was in it's place.

I've always looked up - at the clouds, the trees, the wildlife flying by.  So here I was admiring the different oaks on both properties.  One, a century old oak, winding around and cared for, covered with ivy in a very upscale neighborhood.  And, not more than three miles away, in a funky mobile home park, several large oaks surviving on their own, shading a cluster of worn-out dilapidated trailers.



Margey's family's front yard with a beautiful manicured oak in the exclusive Cherokee Park neighborhood.

Margey - in "Miss Nancy's" front yard with old unkempt oaks surviving by their own behind the Cadillac dealership, in that hidden and "shady" - Pine Ridge Mobile Home Park.