My friend once had a collision with a tree.

When I say “collision,” I’m not talking about one of those accidents you have as a teenage driver where the Buick your grandmother gave you as a starter car slides off the road into the snow.

On a steamy night a couple months ago, a group of us were on our way out of a microbrew in Lexington, Kentucky.  My friend was checking her cell phone, as her boyfriend was making a cross-country drive that would go into the wee hours of the morning.

Her head was buried in her phone when she met up with the young sapling in question.

One would assume this would traumatize the tree to the point of it growing up to become a legendary tree villain along the same lines as the famed “kite-eating tree” from the Peanuts Gang.   Not sure on that one–time will tell.

K swore briefly and rubbed her forehead.  The tree had done minimal damage.

She did, however, put her phone away for the rest of the walk to the car.