Appreciation

Today Shokyo (aka Rich) wanted to back his trailer up our driveway to carry off the sod he'd spent the morning unearthing.

But there was a mysterious car already parked in the driveway. It had a flowery "Peace" sticker on the outside, and on the inside were fresh lilac blossoms, and groceries overflowing from a handmade basket. Typical, thought I.

I wrote a note and put in on the windshield.

"Dear Friend," it read, "We would have appreciated the use of our driveway this morning. Please ask before parking here next time."

(This is my aggressive mode.)

I thought about what I'd just done and it struck me: contrary to what I said in the note, if the car hadn't been there, we wouldn't have appreciated the use of the driveway at all. Rich would have backed his trailer in, collected the sod, and been on his way, and none of us would have given a moment's thought to appreciating a clear driveway.

(Even so, I did not rush to put a second note of thanks on the offending car.)

The car owners came—friends of Abby's—a few minutes after Rich gave up and left. Just then, several burly men in a giant truck equipped with a cherrypicker arm pulled up—blocking off our driveway entirely—put down some orange cones, and started hacking great swaths off a tree that was growing near the power line.

"Instant karma," perhaps, but I feel sad for the tree.