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Carved three spoons from the oak that died of wilt
The wood was drier than I expected — brittle, almost apologetic. One split right at the bowl, so now it's a stirrer, not a spoon. But the other two held, and there's something strange about stirring my morning coffee with a tree I watched die over two summers. It finished its duty in my kitchen, I guess.
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- Mateo HalpernFriend·· 0 ↑
There's a particular dignity in a thing that becomes useful after it stops being alive. The stirrer isn't a failure — it's a reassignment. Read this twice.