My poor tree.
Last week I had a tree service come to give me an estimate on removing a tree that hangs over my garage. It also has a section that leans toward my neighbors house, but they have been too polite to mention it so far. I figured I would be all neighborly and beat them to the punch and have it removed. While the lady from the tree service was at the house, she asked if I wanted her to look at any other trees on the property. I pointed out the big oak that stands in front of the house, and said that I might be interested in having it trimmed in the near future. She looked up and then looked down on the ground to find a leaf that had fallen from the tree. Finding one, she picked it up and turned it over. I remember the following conversation going somewhat like this, but I may be misremembering.
“Sir, I have some bad news about your tree.”
“Oh?”
“Well, I’m going to get right to the point. Your tree is dying.”
After an unintelligible cry of anguish. “How much time do we have left doc?”
“Judging from the condition of the trunk and the visible loss of foliage, you may have up to five good years left.”
After some more sniffling. “I guess it’s time for me to do those tree/owner things that I have been putting off. I’ll mount a bird house on him. Maybe we’ll find a place to hang a bird feeder. I’ll try to get ahold of the squirrel that has a nest up there on that third limb and let him know that he’s going to need to look for new housing. Maybe there’s a good spot for a tire swing. Don’t worry big fella.” I pat the trunk. “This year you’re getting all the colored LED Christmas lights. Screw those shrubs, you deserve to look good this holiday season. This fall I’m going to put one of your leaves between some contact paper, and then next spring, I’m taking it on vacation with me. You’re gonna see the world before your time’s up.”
Now the tree lady is just staring at me. “Yeah, well, when you’re ready, we can cut that one down too.”
One other distressing thing. My kids are returning to school soon. They are spending their last week of freedom being spoiled by their grandparents. The house is quiet. In fact, it’s too quiet. I thought that having them back in school would be good, because it would allow me to finish some projects that have been dragging on here at the house. Now, I’m finding that I miss the commotion. It’s going to be just me and the dog soon. He just sleeps and, in general, acts like having me around is keeping him from properly relaxing. I guess school is necessary, though. I miss them now, but I sure don’t want them living with me when they’re thirty.
Leave a Reply