Harry Potter tree

With the sun starting to disappear behind the forecasted rain clouds, I took off my snowshoes and walked back to my car. On the trek to the Henne preserve boardwalk, I'd spotted at least one sure sign of semi-spring—stoneflies ambling over the snow—but no indications of early tree swallows or Osprey. The swamp was quiet, still-winter-quiet. Because I was on high alert, I noticed something I'd never seen before, even though I'd been by this gap-toothed guardian many times in the past. The ancient tree was something out of a Harry Potter tale, or, perhaps, Tolkien. But whether kin to the "Whomping Willow" or the Ents, this elder statesman struck me as uttering an all-too-familiar "Enuf, already" cry. With semi-warmth approaching, I think the Old Geezer's wish will soon be fulfilled.