An interesting bit of family history underlies the stack of logs the two-year-old me is plopped before. A few months earlier, these were some of the trunks of several huge acacia trees that shaded the front portion of our yard. A particularly violent winter storm sent them all a-tumbling down, luckily missing the house entirely. We had a tree service clear and cut them; some went into the fireplace and the rest my father used as fill to enlarge this terrace for his cut flower garden. Not the best idea, because twelve years later in another winter storm the rotted remains gave way. In its place, Father erected a nice, sturdy redwood bulkhead. The exact nature of the thing I'm holding has been the subject of speculation; my sister, who took the shot (scanned from the original 120 negative), can't remember its precise origin. There are some suggestive clues in the shapes of the pieces, however. | Click image for Comments.