The Old Log – An American Chestnut?

The log draws me down the lane each time I visit the farm. There is something about how she looks, her slow changes over the decades, that draws me to ponder.

A large log lies on the ground by the horseshoe bend in the lane. The dead trunk had toppled about two decades ago, but it had stood upright, still dead, for as long as I can remember. I first noticed the snag when I was about eight years old. My mother and I were probably … Read more