Wednesday, January 6, 2010
As I sit here writing on this appropriately gray, dreary day, I'm listening to murder and mayhem outside my front window. I have my red curtains closed, but they are kind of sheer, so it gives the whole event an even more macabre feel.
The tree guys are here. Our one big tree, which in the summer shades our upstairs as well as our entire backyard (once the sun starts its descent), is being taken down. Yes, I know it is (allegedly) more than two-thirds rotten inside. Yes, I know it is leaning precariously over our upstairs bedroom. Yes, I know that silver maples are not really a pretty tree, at least in terms of fall color. Yes, I know we are getting three (very small) trees in its place ... someday. But, it's still a living (barely) tree that has been here probably more than 50 years (how long does it take a silver maple to grow to be over 50 feet tall?). Not to mention the fact that all fall I've been watching a family of squirrels scurry around and stock their home with all sorts of goodies. And that home just happens to be in the big silver maple (OK, so those squirrels probably contributed to its downfall, as their home is in the huge knot on the side of the tree. But still.)
And on top of all that, I know I will eventually be reprimanded by the batty woman who scolded me a month ago when she heard that the tree was slated to come down. Even though I told her that we are planting three trees in its place. Even though I know that since we moved in this past August, we have planted seven trees. She still scolded me. Like it was my fault the tree was dead. She is probably also one of those people who want to protect all the prairie dogs, even though they breed so fast and have so few natural predators, that in two years' time they were able to turn a field of tall grasses into a barren dust bowl.
Oops, how'd I get off on that tangent?
So I'm giving a little offering of thanks to our silver maple. We've only enjoyed its shade for 4 months, but we will miss it. (Though, admittedly, I won't be missing all the dead branches it dropped in our yard.) So long, tree! I hope you come back in your next life as a long-lived (male) ginkgo!