|Our overgrown Norwegian Maple.|
Still, I have a fondness for maple trees. When we were kids, we had a large maple tree (not sure which variety) that stood in our front yard. It was an inviting tree with a wide trunk and one low hanging branch that I could reach by holding on to the girth of the tree, wedging a foot against it and springing up. It had many big branches, one of which supported a rope swing. It was a second home to four monkeys and often hosted neighboring monkeys as well.
|Little Amy, tree climbing monkey extraordinaire.|
I remember the boys peeing out of the tree and being a little envious that I had to climb down go into the house to relieve myself. Once my step-brother, Lew, was sick, and then there was our dog patrolling the understory performing clean-up duty...
I watched the ants march up the bark, watched the daffodils push-up through the packed earth every spring, while I waited for leaves, then watch them turn yellow and fall. No wonder I felt like crying when my step-cousin Johnnie Lee told me, “Amy, they cut down our tree!” Apparently the old tree had to be put down due to some variety of rot. Sigh.
NW Tree Specialists arrived bright and early. He asked me, “Which tree is it?” I brought him over. He nodded, retrieved his pole saw and fired it up. Zing, zing, zing. Down fell the branches one by one. Once, I wondered if a branch would fall on the neighbor’s car, I needn't have worried, Jose put in a face and back cut then it plopped down on the concrete safe and sound.
I was a nervous for Jose when she shimmied up our tree and with his chainsaw and limbed the rest of it from there. He had a flair for showmanship, as he grabbed a branch with one hand, had the saw running in the other, then whipping the huge branches away just as the saw came through. Then his helper hauled them and fed them to the machine. About a dozen big trailer loads of material disappeared in there.
Finally all that stood was a naked trunk. Then that was felled too, with efficient precision. The two men raked up the leaves and brought out a leaf blower, leaving the driveway cleaner than before they arrived.
In all, in about forty-five minutes a large tree was reduced to four small rounds and a truck full of chips. I thanked Jose and his helper and they roared out of our neighborhood, and that was that.
I called Charley to let him know it was all done and the arborists did a great job. Then I asked, “Can I plant a flowering dogwood there instead? They stay little are are super pretty in the spring.”
“I'm not sure that spot is great for a tree.”
“Can I at least see it first?”
“Oh yeah, sure, sorry.”
|"I speak for the trees!"|