Literally. And figuratively. We've been having crap weather here in Boston the last few days. This morning I got up, left the house, and noticed that the dogwood tree that I had planted right after we moved in here in 1999 didn't look quite right. On further inspection, one of the main forks of the tree had split off in the wind.
Fuck you too, universe. Way to kick me when I'm down. I planted this little guy as about a two foot tall sapling, now he's about ten feet tall, and should flower for the first time next year. I think it can be salvaged, but it's still going to look really sad with almost half the tree missing.
Poor broken dogwood.
Closeup of injury.