The crazy thing about the aftermath of the big October storm in Buffalo was the trees. Driving around over Thanksgiving weekend, nearly every big tree was damaged in some way. Most of them were mangled in bizarre ways, with limbs half-missing, tops that were lopped off at odd angles, some with just a few branches remaining. They looked like some chain-saw killer had decided ENOUGH WITH THE TREES, and had taken to random chopping. My grandmother (on my mom’s side, not the Italian side), was making me tuna fish sandwiches and looking out the window at the big tree in the backyard. She said that some of the branches bent all the way to the ground under the weight of the snow, but the ones that couldn’t bend that far just snapped. I’ve been pondering the idea of “that which yields is not always weak,” and apparently it also applies to trees.