My neighbor called this morning at 8 a m to ask me to put my car out on the street before the tree service arrived at 9:30. He was having 2 oak trees, one about 60 years old, one likely nearly 100, removed because he couldn’t grow grass in that part of his yard!
Never mind that he cuts the grass too short, needs to use a special shade grass, and could have just planted ivy for a beautiful hillside – for him, it was a good idea to kill those old and beautiful Standing People because he likes to remove. He seldom adds or fixes in the yard – just takes out a piece of his noisy equipment and removes.
I went numb as the pit of my stomach turned over. I forgot all the tasks I wanted to accomplish, volunteered to pick up my grandson from summer school, gathered what I needed and left just as the huge truck pulled in.
I spoke to everyone I saw today about those beautiful trees and all they provided. I tried to see good for other parts of the yard in their sacrifice. I didn’t come home until 5, thinking the surgery would be finished. It wasn’t quite – the workers were rolling huge round sections down the hill to their bobcat. And the huge ugly stumps stood mute on the bare hill.
I am singing quiet songs to them as the dusk falls, loving the feeling of their bark as my fingers remember it, telling them I will stand witness, and that their 3 big brothers in my yard will also remember.
I am oak tree grieving.