Half the cottonwood lies across the schoolhouse yard. It is not just a limb, its stout girth too much for any lightweight chainsaw we might use. The tree’s upright half is leafed out in deep green, the fallen half is trying hard, but only producing small light leaves. The trunk is still attached and arches beautifully, high enough to walk underneath. I want to leave it where it is, allowing the reverberation of the fall to continue.