When I first moved to Big Sandy to a farm out southeast. A huge cottonwood tree greeted everyone at the start of our farm. Over the years, the tree was poisoned by weed spray from airplanes spraying the crops right above it. It finally died and stood for years with its white skin against the blue sky, but ultimately, my husband cut it down. Years later, I saw what I thought was a fantastic picture-a sunflower growing out of a dead tree stump. I've come to understand its message to me.
We poisoned the tree, not on purpose, but by accident. But we still poisoned it. We killed it. It was such an...
