I’m looking through the window at the trunk of a tree that must surely be one of the oddities of nature, though certainly not unique.

The tree has been there longer than I have, and I must have noticed it before. Now, however, I see it in a new light as the bright sun heads west.

To the right of the trunk, the main trunk, is another slimmer trunk. It grows just above ground level, out of the main trunk itself, as if the tree were branching out at the base, then branching upward, only a few inches in diameter against the main trunk over a foot wide. It parallels the main trunk for maybe five feet. Then the offshoot gives up trying to be a tree on its own, joins the main trunk, grows into it, gives up its own identity and becomes indistinguishably part of the main.

Like some families, I thought, the children unable to make it on their own, rejoining the family enterprise and being subsumed.

Kristina came in and said, “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

I explained about the tree.

She said, “No, Dad, that’s just another little branch growing next to the trunk. You can see it better from another angle. We may have to remove those branches.”

I thought, “Hmm…” and “I’m not so sure…” and “I may go outside to take a closer look…”

But then I’d have to get up from my chair.

It’s like life and the world. It gets complicated. Things depend on from where you’re looking.

Maybe I’ll finish my coffee and put on my shoes.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting here, looking out the window.