A tall oak grows in my neighbor’s yard up the street. It’s so tall, tall as a Gemini rocket, maybe. And its branches spray out like fireworks. This spring, the new leaves on it glowed a fiery green. The oak just stood there, the way trees do. But it burned. And I … felt fizzy delight in its beauty. I craned my neck back, looking up, farther up. And there at the top, three contrails burst from its crown, curving streaks of white jetting across blue, as though the oak’s energy claimed all heaven. This was Iggdrasil, the Tree of the World, planted in my neighbor’s yard.
For a sample of the story inspired by this oak . . . coming soon!