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Missed me by that much

I had a walk through Beacon Hill Park on the afternoon of March 14, 2003. I was taking digital photos as I went. A squirrel ran up to me and posed for several shots. He soon ran off when he realized all I was going to do was take his picture, and not give him some form of snack. I took some pictures of ducks, geese, gulls, flowers, and a turtle that was trying to get a tan. Then I got some photos of a tree full of herons. Part way through getting the heron pictures I made a rough estimate of how much bigger herons are than sea gulls. I made a mental note to not stand directly under the heron tree. In fact, considering how much bigger herons are than gulls, it’s quite remarkable that we don’t have an old saying something like, “that’s as stupid as standing under a tree full of herons.”

After crossing the park’s trademark rock bridge, I walked by an unremarkable but fairly large tree that I didn’t notice at all. About 30 or 40 feet further along the path I saw a woman with an interesting animal on a leash. My first thought was, “oh look. She’s got herself an albino otter.” When I asked her what manner of creature it was she said, “he’s a ferret . . . Oh my god!” In between the words “ferret” and “oh” there was a loud crack behind me. A crack loud enough that I suspect being directly under the heron tree at that particular moment would have been an even worse idea than usual.

I turned around and saw the tree I hadn’t noticed before, falling onto the path I’d just walked along. One of the main trunks of the tree thudded soundly against the path. The upper branches of the falling tree splashed into the pond, sending a company of ducks scrambling into the air, quacking up a storm. The roots of the tree yarded up a goodly supply of turf, and left a gaping, water filled hole. It was quite a site. No people hurt, and apparently no ducks or other birds hurt either.

Before I mention my reaction while the tree was crashing, I’ll recall a scene from the old TV series Night Stalker. The main character, a reporter played by Darren McGavin, is walking through a dark scary building at night. An elderly demon hunter takes a pot shot at him with a cross bow, mistaking him for the episode’s polymorphic, murderous creature. How does Darren McGavin react? He spins rapidly and takes a photo.

So there I was with a digital camera, (capable of high resolution video, with steady cam, auto focus and a DVD writer no less) in my hand, all set to go. Did I spin and get some ‘ready for the six o-clock news’ footage of Beacon Hill Park’s event of the day? No, I stared at the tree as it came crashing down, and might have said, “wow!”

Well, I did snag some nice still photos, post crash. A tourist from Colorado was sitting on a park bench with her friend about 20 feet from the crashing tree. She asked me to email her copies of some of the pictures, so she could show friends how close she was. It’s interesting that the pictures will get to Colorado long before she gets back there.

While driving home I went over my regrets at not filming the crash, and my happiness at not getting heron poop on my head. Then it occurred to me, that I should also be happy about the tree not falling 15 seconds earlier, as it could have killed me. So I had myself a ‘near death’ experience but I messed up and missed out on the whole euphoric, ‘hey I’m alive!’ experience, where everything looks beautiful and I decide to live life to the fullest from now on. Ah well, at least the world did look bright and vivid for the rest of the day. Likely because we finally got a break from the Spring rain, hail and snow leaving us with a bright sunny day. If another tree comes down near me, I’m all set for it to be a life changing experience though.

In retrospect I’m lead to wonder if the squirrel had something to do with the tree collapse. He did manage some awfully cute poses for my camera, yet got bupkiss from me in the way of peanuts or other snacks. Anger could lead to gnawing a tree down. I’m thinking of heading back to the park to check the roots for teeth marks.