The Tree That Was

We did an amazing thing today. We “took down” our forty-five year old weeping willow tree. I can’t say that I actually “wept,” but it was a poignant experience seeing it “come down.” I’ve had a 32-year love/hate relationship with that tree. Our house sits at the very back of a pie-shaped piece of property, so our back yard is very small and doesn’t have many redeeming features. Not counting our trampoline, the willow tree was about the only thing that might entice children to play in our yard. It had more than its fair share of tree forts, rope swings, and tons of climbing (especially during the early years when the first crotch was low enough for little people to reach). It provided lots of great shade, and every morning of the 32 years we’ve been here I’ve looked out our bedroom window first thing in the morning at willow branches swaying in the breeze.

But willow trees are so dirty. We were constantly picking up branches and sticks. The roots messed up our driveway and our patio. It was an on-going battle to get grass to grow back there. And the tree wasn’t very healthy. We’ve lost four or five major branches. Miraculously, they’ve never fallen on anyone or caused damage, but the only remaining branches hung over the house or over the driveway. About a week ago another big branch came down, and we decided that the next branch to fall would cause major damage. It was time for the tree to go.
8:00 a.m. The trucks arrived. And there were at least five of them. Each one of them had a different specific purpose--the cherry picker, the chipper, the claw, the haul-away truck, the stump grinder, etc.

They started with the top and worked their way down.It was so fascinating to watch them using ropes to drop the branches.

This spring we watched out our bedroom window as a Mr. and Mrs. Woodpecker created a home for their family. We first noticed that the ground was covered with little tiny pieces of wood (almost like sawdust). When we started looking for the source, we discovered the two of them busily at work. Not content with a single entrance, they created four ways in and out, including a rear entrance. When that branch came down I was able to take a closer look at their home (the babies had already flown away and the "summer cottage" was abandoned. I am amazed at how perfectly round the holes are.)




When all the branches were gone, they just sawed off the trunk at the ground, picked it up with their big claw . . .And dropped it into a truck.



When the tree was gone they ground the stump. The roots? They ate them, gone clear down to China.
By 10:00 they were done. Every twig was cleaned up, the yard was blown clean, and the trucks were gone. There’s nothing left but a big hole in the sky and an even bigger hole in our pocketbook.