Reconstruction...

There is a certain sense of sadness associated with that word - reconstruction.  Just by its form and prefix, one already knows that an entity existed, somehow lost its original form, and then had to be rebuilt.

Interesting experience this week...  Every morning, I drive through Memorial Park on my commute - for the most part, the same commute I have done for over 5 years.  In previous posts, I   described the devastation which occurred as the result of the drought we had, but for months now, a reconstruction of sorts has been taking place.  Such a huge undertaking.  Massive.

First the identification of the trees that are indeed dead.  Then the logging of huge areas, and the heavy equipment brought in to haul the trunks away.  The stripping of the parched underbrush, leaving areas of muddy bareness and broken tree limbs and shorter pieces of log.  The change in the canopy, as the thousands of loblolly pines came down - their multi-storied presence with a formerly green stand of needles on top being replaced by a not-nearly-so-tall canopy of hardwoods in their winter nakedness.  Very grey.  Sad.

This week, though, in the mist of the foggy morning drives, I could make out landscaping buckets with  sizeable seedlings on board, placed/spaced strategically along the roadways.  Some pine, some not - just waiting for someone to come along and give them help getting into the ground.  Yesterday morning, on the way in to work on a Saturday (something I was not necessarily looking forward to, and had had to get up early to do) I was treated to seeing dozens of young people - teenagers - out there digging holes on their Saturday mornings.  The act of reconstruction.  Be sad for a bit, and then come up with a plan to set things right as best one can.  I like that.  A positive way to move forward with our lives.