Reflections on the Eleventh Week of Fall – Daryl and Tia Come for a Tree

Tree Nursery

    Monday evening, after a day driving eighty miles for lap swim, errands, and Spence’s eye appointment, I collapsed into the Adirondack chair and opened a book. Muscles in my shoulders relaxed, and Janet Evonovich’sChristmas mystery novel began with Diesel, a supernatural hero, materializing in Stephanie Plum’s kitchen.

    A thump on the deck made me look up. A stranger popped out of the country dark and tried to open the sliding glass door.

    Locked.

    Shoulder muscles tensing, I stared at her friendly smile and long brown curls. “Someone’s at the side door, Spence.”

    His spatula clunked onto the stove.

    A grinning man stepped out of the dark behind the woman.

    Walking toward the door, Spence said, “Oh, it’s Daryl and his girlfriend. They must have come for the tree.”

   In the dark?

   Spence had told Daryl, lean and muscular from working on gigantic tractors all day, that Spence needed to thin the tree nursery. And Daryl had said his girlfriend wanted a Christmas tree. So Sunday Spence cut and dragged a twenty-five foot Douglas fir to the side yard.

    But how would Daryl cut and load the tree in the dark?

    Spence slid the door open, and the couple stepped inside.

    Tia introduced herself and said, “The tree’s beautiful. I tried to get it earlier this afternoon with my fourteen year old son, but it was too big for us to handle.”

    One of her four children was fourteen? Standing by the wood stove with a column of horizontal rips on both legs of her gray jeans, she didn’t look old enough.

    She glanced at Daryl. “I had to wait for Daryl to get off work so he could cut the tree and lift it into his truck.”

    I turned to Daryl. “How are you going to cut the tree in the dark?”

    “I already did. I had a flashlight and a chain saw.” Daryl bent over and spread his arms wide. “I measured with my arms, added a foot, and cut there.” He straightened. “It’s in my truck. I left the bottom for Spence.” His gaze moved up to the bridge between our lofts. “You have a beautiful home.”

    Spence stretched his arm toward the spiral stairs. “Do you want a tour?”

    Yikes. Clutter covered every inch of the coffee table, dirty dishes piled in the sink, and wet towels hung from the shower stall, laundry tub, and hooks in the bathroom. “If you don’t mind it’s two days before cleaning day,” I said.

    They laughed and followed Spence up the spiral stairs.

    Calendar pages I’d printed, but hadn’t assembled, and pieces of my Mansfield Park quilt scattered across the sewing table. Stacks of paper littered the desks and floor in Spence’s loft.

    But Daryl and Tia gazed at the roof supports and over the bridge railing to the great room below. “Amazing,” he said. “I love the bridge.”

    Spence lead them downstairs to the bedrooms, “You can see Janet likes quilts—” and the bathroom, “—that’s our cat Emma sleeping on the mat,” before we gathered by the wood stove fire.

    Like any country neighbors, our conversation turned to large wild animals.

    “The big cat stood in the corn field.” Daryl held his hand three inches below his knee. “The plants were this high. The cat had his hind legs in one row, and its front in the next.” He shook his head. “Those rows are three feet apart.”

   “Its tail curved up,” Tia said, “and its head looked too big for its body.”

   Spence folded his arms across his chest. “And the game wardens say there aren’t any mountain lions in Pennsylvania. Did you get a picture?”

    Tia looked at Daryl. “We could have.”

    Daryl looked back at Tia. “It was looking right at us.”

    “But we didn’t,” she said.

    A mountain lion looking right at me? I wouldn’t have reached in my pocket for my phone camera either.

    “Janet got a picture of a bear.” Spence patted my shoulder. “Kathy called to say a bear climbed into Peggie’s tree–did Janet want to take a picture.”

    I continued Spence’s saga. “The chimney sweep was here at the time. He followed us to Peggie’s.”

    Spence took the story again. “Peggie and Gary sat in folding chairs by their garage while neighbors drove over to gawk at the bear.”

    Daryl’s eyes twinkled. “Ah. Good old country red-necking.” 

    After several more mountain lion and bear stories, Tia said, “When we get the tree up and decorated, you’ll have to come see it.”

    Still smiling and grinning, the handsome couple stepped through the sliding glass door.

    Spence hugged my shoulders.

    In anticipation of celebrating their first Christmas together, Daryl and Tia drove home with a fresh-cut Douglas fir. Spence and I would celebrate our fiftieth Christmas with a much shorter live evergreen destined for the nursery extension or the line of trees along the road.

   Spence walked back to the kitchen.

    I settled in the Adirondack chair and opened my book.

Douglas Fir 2