David Friedli

By the Dashboard Lights

04/02/09

Changing Landscape

Ron stepped out of the city vehicle and approached me while I raked another huge pile of leaves toward the borrowed pickup truck at the edge of my yard.

“We’ve been looking at that maple tree. It’s pretty rotten and it looks like a nuisance. It’s gotta go.”

My aching back, callused hands and dust-filled nose immediately felt relief.

“Anytime,” I replied. “The sooner the better.”

I looked up at a tree still half-filled with golden, brown and orange leaves.

“It won’t be right away,” he said matter-of-factly. “The tree is large enough we’ll have to bring someone in. But it’s on the list.”

There is an advantage of having the City of Lyons control my lawn area adjacent to the street. The removal of a huge maple tree is one of them.

Obviously, an ice storm, powerful wind or heavy snow load could bring the tree to the ground quickly if it were not removed.

If it fell north, my property would be damaged.

If it fell south, the street would be blocked or the concrete damaged from the weight and impact.

Trimming wasn’t an option. That had been done continuously over the 25 years I’ve lived in the house.

Maple trees have a life cycle. This one was in the latter stages of “rot and die”.

Two weeks ago, I turned the corner heading home to see the truck of that maple tree standing 12 feet high, the top removed and a pile of wood chips the only remnants of what were large if not graceful branches that once hung over my garage, my lawn and the city’s street.

Even knowing it would happen hadn’t prepared me for the inevitable.

I was torn. Sure, I wanted the tree gone before it caused damage or more headaches of branch removal.

But the shade it provided from late-afternoon sun would be missed.

Growing grass under that huge tree was always difficult due to the extreme shade and the moisture the tree demanded.

The loss of habitat and the aerial pathway the branches provided from one end of our property, across the street and into another huge maple on a neighbor’s yard certainly will affect the on-going animosity between the family beagle and the squirrels who inhabit the area.

Split between knowing the tree had to come down and missing its benefits, I am now living the reality of one less tree in the yard.

I’ll plant another tree. Perhaps not in the same area, but as a nod to environmental equality: take one down, plant another.

The planting process will probably result in an aching back, callused hands and dust-filled nose.

It will be worth it.