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I speak to the stumps of long lost trees that I once loved. I tell them how much I miss their leaves and shade and majesty. 

Yes, I speak to these stumps aloud, and yes, I use the word “majesty.”

Not always, but sometimes. 

There are three of these stumps in the world that I am currently speaking to on a regular basis. One is on the golf course where I frequently play. Another can be found on the playground of the school where I work. The third is in a local playground.

Sometimes I sit on the stump if I have a moment to chat. 

As I’ve said before, I’m basically a walking, talking nostalgia machine that suffers from a permanent existential crisis.