Anyway, my neighbor Mike rushed over with his teeny weeny chain saw. "We need to cut this up," he'd said, and started sawing his way through branches. "No, no," I said, as he approached the smashed river birch. "Let that go, it may live." "But it's going to die," he'd replied, "it's all broken up." So I repeated myself, "let it go." He shrugged his disapproval and moved back to the cherry tree.
This beautiful spring morning, sitting in my dining room, I took a picture of that very same river birch.
As you can see, it did not die. Some times we have to just let things grow. Now if only I could get out and mow the lawn.