I don’t usually get overly emotional about trees. At least not individual trees. Their collective importance to the world is without doubt vital; they are part of the breathing world, helping to maintain our atmosphere and our life. But one, single tree? If it is in the way, cut it down. Plant another one somewhere else.
Except when you do get sort of attached, seeing one go can be hard.
Our house and neighborhood were built on an old farm field. Most of the wind break trees and small clusters of deciduous forest trees were long gone by the time our house went up. There was one Old Giant that remained, however. You could see this tree from a long way off, heck even from the north side of I94 before the Veteran’s Blvd bridge was built. Over the last couple of years Brenda and I have walked past it nearly every day on our walks. Bald Eagles, Owls, and other birds have landed in it. Butterflies, small mammals and insects have called it and the small patch of land around it home.
No longer. Here are some pictures we took in late summer of 2014, when we got the sense that it would not be there forever. And then a shot of the same scene this morning. The Old Giant is gone, not from old age, or disease or wind, any of which could have taken it at any time. No, felled by saw and blade, which means that corner lot was probably, finally sold for some new house to go in this spring.
When the house goes up and the owners move in, I might have to print one of these off and leave it on their doorstep.