Earlier this year, I was working in my office/bedroom, when I heard a thump on the roof. A branch had fallen off a tree, struck the gutter over my window, and bounced into the backyard, where Secundus was playing. Fortunately, it missed him.
A month or so later, I was walking the dog on Rye's leafy Milton Road when a large branch crashed down into the roadway from a tree on the opposite verge, at exactly the moment I passed. Being a good citizen, I hauled it out of the way of the traffic, despite being leashed to a bewildered mutt at the time. For once, nobody took the opportunity to ask me for directions.
Two days ago, Secundus and I had just stepped through the gate between the driveway and the front yard when a massive branch from one of our oaks plummeted to earth about twenty feet from where we were standing, peeling itself on the kids' zipline and making a sizeable hole where it stabbed the lawn. The indications are that it was struck by lightning, although the thunderstorm had passed hours earlier.
Then Secundus informed me that a ceiling tile had fallen down in his classroom, without hitting anyone.
So here's my question. Are the trees out to get me, or does gravity have it in for all the Beecheys? If the former, does being named after a tree cut no ice with a vengeful Mother Nature?