A little too much wind

I have to say that it strikes me as preposterous that I own a tree. Well, actually I own two trees plus a lilac bush that’s threatening to become as big as a tree. But really, what human needs to own a tree? I’d be happy to go visit trees. Especially now, when my main tree has suffered grievous injuries at the hands of the weather.

Tree damage, September 6, 2011

I was out of town this weekend, and while I was gone a line of severe storms went through here. Severe enough that they ended a University of Michigan football game early. Severe enough that huge chunks of several communities have been without electricity for three days and counting. Unsurprisingly, a tall, old elm afflicted with Dutch elm disease* wouldn’t be much of a match.

Tree damage, Sept. 6, 2011 (2)

Fortunately, not only was no one hurt, but the limbs and branches fell on no houses or cars. (I’m not sure which would be worse: the tree falling on my house, or the tree falling on my neighbors’.) A neighbor told me that there was a lot of tree damage on our block, but mine was the worst. THAT was a lottery I didn’t really want to win.

This morning I called the tree contractor I used the last time something like this happened. He was going to come by tonight, but I don’t think he did. I’m sure I’m not his only client given how widespread this was. But I will call him tomorrow to see if I can speed things up a little. I was going to leave this mess on the sidewalk, thinking myself unable to do anything, until I remembered I had a handsaw. As day segued into night, I managed to cut enough to clear the sidewalk so the kiddies can get to school. I’m a lumberjack, and I’m ok. But I’m not that much of a lumberjack, so I hope the contractor comes by tomorrow. Really.
____________

* The tree contractor told me it had no signs of Dutch elm disease. That was when I decided to just have the damage cleaned up instead of having the tree removed, which would’ve left my house unshaded.

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About songdogmi

I'm a longhaired almost-hippie stuck in the inner suburbs of a major rust-belt metropolis who's thoughtful, creative, and kind of geeky. In exchange for a paycheck I run around in a cubicle maze most days. When I escape, I play music, hang out in coffee houses, dink around on the computer, take naps, and think I should be off in the woods somewhere. Every once in a while I get in my car and drive far, far away, though I've always come back so far.
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