"Like Scattering Snow"

Goodbye to the Cottonwood by Margaret Hill McCarter

On the cottonwood tree rests the shadow of doom,
The useless old tree with its feathery bloom
Blowing widely adrift like the scattering snow.
Falling mutely in heaps, wind-swept to and fro,
The hardy old tree,
The pioneer tree,
Through years that are gone
It waited a hand
To conquer the land,
And its people in triumph lead on, ever on....

I love the line "blowing widely adrift like the scattering snow" from this first stanza of Goodbye to the Cottonwood. This spring as I my garage, my screens, and my sinuses have been attacked by the white fluff, I been perplexed at its existence. Where does this come from? People tell me it's the cottonwoods. Until today I didn't quite know what a cottonwood looked like. As I took my dad's dog to the far end of my parking lot for a respite, I saw the origin of the mess. This massive tree towers at the end of the lot. Since I usually exit the other end, I didn't know of its existence. "Falling mutely in heaps" and "Blowing widely adrift" the cottonwood looms nearby.

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