Its just an old fig tree. Leaning heavily on one side after generations of service. Comfortably but precariously using the fence as its crutch. Struggling to produce what few figs its tired body has the energy left in it to nurture. Its the same fig tree that my grandfather plucked figs from to sell for spending money as a young boy. The same fig tree my mom played under with her sisters and their dolls. The same fig tree my uncles used as first base while playing baseball in the yard. The same fig tree that had the perfect hole for hiding countless Easter eggs. The same fig tree my cousins and I used as safe when play hide and seek.
My grandmother guesses its near 87 years old now. Its seen alot in its life. Grown countless figs for countless cookies. Today was its day to see another generation. To let them pose for yet another picture in front of its no longer stately trunk. Soon its life will end and the workmen won't think twice about its removal. After all, its just an old fig tree.