THE LONELY MAPLE.

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This is the only surviving remnant of the homestead where I was born and raised. The tree stood in the NE corner of our kitchen garden where its branches over-reached the fence that market the south boundary of the road that led to the fishing premises on the East side of the cove, and to the road that led along the cliff-top to the old pioneer cemetery. Some wishful thinking (a.k.a.) simple minded individual staked out most of the East side of the Cove, claimed it as personal property, and offered it for sale by some real estate agency. Fortunately, I was able to nip that in the bud before some unsuspecting buyer got hoodwinked. Our building lot consisted of only 1/6 acre, most of which has since been reclaimed by the sea. As the ice continues to melt, the sea continues to rise, almost inperceptible, yet inexorable. Foolish people think that if you don't notice it, it will go away. The tree almost blocked the view from my sister's bedroom window, but it was there I stood to watch the torpeoding of the S.S. Rose Castle. For me , it isn't just a tree!