I weep for trees

First the photos:

Senseless. What my neighbor doesn't seem to understand is that a grove of trees is a living organism. Together they are strong. They protect each other and they protect the home. But cut into it. remove a third of it or half of it and the remaining individuals are weakened by their absence. They are left vulnerable to the winds, and when the hurricanes blow -- as they surely will -- they will be the ones that snap and topple. I just hope they topple onto his house and not fall across the road onto mine.
That's the anger talking.
The heart mourns their majestic loss. The sky has a hole in it that I notice as soon as I turn into the neighborhood a full three blocks away. When I pull into the driveway of my home just across the street, my heart just breaks. There are a minimum of six giants missing from the landscape, home to countless birds and other organisms.
The owls for example.
They nest there every winter. I hear them calling in the early morning in winter when I go out into the dark to collect my newspaper. Will they move? "Come to my yard," I want to say. I have 35 trees in my small back yard. They are giants as well, but only three are loblollys (pines to the uninformed, brittle, apt-to-snap pines) and they are protected by their tall majestic brethren.
I hope the owls don't leave. Their calling lifts me. I need them.
And I cry uncontrollably at the loss of those trees. Over the top, perhaps, but nonetheless I do. I have cried with the heartbreak one feels when a family member or beloved pet is lost. I don't even understand it. But I have apologized for my neighbor. I have expressed my sympathy to the trees, to the universe. And I have prayed to find forgiveness for him.
I don't feel it yet.

How can it be 2012?

I started this blog in 2009 and have let it pretty much languish for three years.
Well not anymore.
It is hereby resurrected.
I guess it was always a blog without a purpose. I am reluctant to pigeonhole it,  and that will probably be its downfall. But so be it.
You don't care. You want to be entertained, enlightened, moved even.
I think I can do that but only if I write about my life -- my boring crazy amazing life.
I don't know how my friends and family are going to feel about this. I don't know how much I should really reveal.  Guess I'll just have to wing it. Push the envelope.