An Arbor Massacre

I know I haven't blogged in a while, although I've been thinking about doing it each week. Every week, Sunday rolls around and we have dinner at the in-laws and then prepping for the next week of business meetings, kids to school and grandma's house, etc. However, this past week a series of events has caused me much turmoil and as such, I felt compelled to get on and blog about it.

About a week and a half ago, my mom had come over for lunch. As she and I were sitting at the kitchen table, I saw a tree service pull up to the neighbors house. They spent a great deal of time walking around surveying a huge maple tree directly across the street from my house. She and I pressed our faces against the windows of my dining room and watched them walking around this gorgeous tree, hands flying in all directions, clip board in the arborist's hand.

I said to my mom, "OH NO!!!! I hope they are not going to cut that down! One of the reasons we moved to this neighborhood was because of the big trees!"

Mom replies, "I hope they aren't too."

Minutes later the chainsaws started buzzing and my heart dropped into my stomach. I left my salad sitting on the table and ran back to the window. Mom hobbled along slowly behind me.

"NO!", I yelled "They're cutting down a different tree!" There before us, was the men and their equipment taking down a small pine tree one neighbor down and across the street from us.

"Tsk, Tsk, Tsk" was all that came out of mom's mouth.

So I came to terms with losing that tree. It was a pine tree and I know how they drop needles in your yard, which is painful for shoe haters like me. I just was praying that the song and dance they did around the huge beautiful maple across the street ended with a conclusion that it MUST stay. A few days later, I watched a brigade of trucks and equipment march down the street and stop at "the maple". Fear and sadness swept over me and I felt invaded. I could understand what the French must have felt like as Hitler and his brigade marched down the Champ de l'Elysee.

I rushed to my bedroom window to snap a last picture of her majesty before I lost her for good. There she stood in her last picture of glory. I had to leave before they finished the job. It literally felt like someone punched me in the gut as I heard her beautiful branches being chipped to pieces. In the midst of all of this, though, I wondered how I could make it better for the tree and myself. So I sucked up all the energy I could find and walked across the street to talk to "the enemy". I asked if I could by chance have the chips. He said he was looking for a place to dispose of them and would be happy to dump them at my house for me. I walked away feeling better..... still sad that the old girl was coming down, but happy that I would be recycling her back into the ground in which she was born. So I left for the day, again, unable to continue listening to the sound of her cracking and crying as they chopped her to pieces. When I came home, I found a 15 foot round 7 foot high pile of chips in my back yard.

At first I was in panic mode, because dear husband, has been faithfully trying to grow grass and the pile was RIGHT on top of his newly planted, newly sprouting grass seed. However, after running like an idiot, in the rain, trying to spread the chips, I gave up and came inside to knit and make dinner. Go ahead and call me a spinster..... it is OK. I am warming up to it ;)

The next morning I awoke to see the neighbor starting to size up the pieces of this massive tree. He was planning on splitting the wood. I jumped into the shower and hurried into a pair of jeans and sweater before running out to photograph the beauty. I tried to get him to get into the picture with it, but he made me.... so excuse the roughness of my being. In chatting with him he said because the tree had several sprouts, when it rained the water pooled in the middle and was rotting away the tree. At first I had a hard time seeing this, but as they cut away more and more, I began to see the rot. If one of those limbs had come down, it would have been the end of someone's house. So I came to terms with the loss of that particular tree. I would have LOVED to count the rings, but the saws marred up the ends. My original guess was that it was here during the Revolutionary War. The owner of the property claims that it was a marker for the property line, I don't disagree, but that it was planted when the property was subdivided. That was in the 1920's. That I disagree with because this tree was MASSIVE!!! I am 5' 4.5" and so you can see it is at least 4' in diameter. Anyone know about how old this is? I'd be interested to hear who was off in their calculations. I speculated that when this old farm was subdivided, this tree happened to be in the right spot and they left it. However, there are other old massive trees around marking property, so maybe neighbor is right.

In anycase, I was finally at peace with the entire process, UNTIL TODAY! I awoke to the sound of the buzzing of the saws AGAIN! I wanted to die. It is like a funeral procession around here as those damn trucks make their way down the street. Russian Roulette..... where will they stop??? They took down a BIG BEAUTIFUL tree at the end of the street and the stomach ache came back. And then as if it wasn't bad enough, the brigade made their way back up the street, after destroying the first tree, and parked in another neighbor's yard. I lost it. I packed my kids up in the car and drove away. I couldn't take it any more. I called my best friend and sobbed for 5 minutes on the phone with her. I just do not understand people. I guess I am a hippie tree hugger after all because losing all of these trees was the worst thing that has happened in a LONG time to me. They weren't my trees, or my property, but they were. They housed the birds that fly thru my yard and drop droppings with wildflower seeds in them. They were a source of pollination for the bees to make honey. They provided shade to my yard. They were a source of beauty that I enjoyed looking at day after day. I had a flashback and imagined how the Native Americans must have felt when they watched the "white man" come in and desecrate the land, the trees, the animals and the life they loved so much. I cried a million tears today for the fallen trees and can only imagine how many tears they cried for their land and people.

When I arrived home tonight, I was pleasantly surprised that at the second stop of the murdering spree, they only took down a limb or two. I am just nervous that they'll be back. If I could, I'd tie myself to each of these trees, but it is not my land or my tree to save. I vowel, to replant more trees and bushes to make up for these losses. I wish this street had a sense of how these actions are harming the planet. We are knocking on Earth Day's door and yet the actions of the past week are FAR from planet friendly. I feel a bit overwhelmed as I consider all that I will have to do to make up for the indisecretions of others on this street. I got an email yesterday that gives me hope in accomplishing this mission. It was called "the daffodil effect" and was about a woman who hand planted thousands of daffodils by herself. She said that she did it knowing that by doing bit by bit, someday it would be magnificent. So my attempt at my cottage garden is going to start one plant at a time and hopefully eventually the green and earth friendly things I am doing here will make up for my fallen friends.