127 Months

Barley, a dog, sniffs about along the edge of a chain-link fence. Within the fence is the stump of a tree branch that grew through the chain link and became fused with it.

I always get a kick out of seeing the aftermath of a tree having been allowed to become ingrown with a fence or similar structure. It’s as though someone took a few years to accidentally back their car over the mailbox, an accident unfolding over years. Then, one must imagine whatever turn of events required the branch to be cut, the briefest flicker of an ending after many years of prelude. One must assume the tree never saw it coming (which I suppose one must assume of trees in general, but the point stands).