the demise of a tree

Our neighborhood was built immediately after World War II. I'm not sure when the trees were planted, all up and down the street, but clearly it wasn't long thereafter.

I had thought these were sugar maples, until a landscape architect I know set me straight. She said they were red maples, which are not "good trees" but are at the "trashy tree" end of the scale along with silver maples. None of them are in the best of health, after 60 years.

I didn't think this one across the street from us was dead, but I guess the city decided it's time had come (trees in the space between the sidewalk and the street belong to the city).

I know it's now known to be bad practice to plant the same sort of tree all in a bunch. If one gets a pest or disease, they all will, and they will all age-out at more or less the same time, too.

But this neighborhood of kindred trees have put on an amazing show every fall. Losing each one is sad. I am grateful for the oxygen they have produced, for the wildlife they have harbored, for the shade in summer, and for the color in autumn.

New trees are being planted; there's a little oak across the street, and my next-door neighbors have a serviceberry, and the people next to them have another oak. It will be a long, long time before the little trees can make up for the old maples that have gone.

Sigh.

Taking the tree down was an immensely noisy process. The shredder all by itself is so noisy as to drown out the chain saws (and of course all three big trucks were running the whole time). (Is noise cumulative, I wonder, or is it only the loudest one that counts?)

You can see a *big* branch is being lowered.




















Watch how fast the shredder ate the branch -- in about as much time as it took to take the pics (just a few seconds pause between shots), that whole big branch was gone.
























I need a couple of cubic yards (or metres, I'm not picky) of wood chips, to cover up the mud in my back yard (in hopes of needing to wash dogfeet less often!).

I asked one of the workers if they could be talked into leaving any, but he said they only ever leave a full load, which is 28 yards. Hmmm. I don't really think I can use quite that much......... Ah well. It didn't hurt to ask.