April 08th, 2020

I am the first to admit that I don't know much about trees.  But even I know that ain't good.

I refer to the above photo.  It is  - or at least was - some sort of palm tree.  And right up until two days ago, it looked absolutely fine.  I went out to pick up the mail Monday and as I passed by, I noticed this.   I am not an arborist, or a botanist, or a horticulturist, or even a gardener really but I know when a live thing, no longer is.  Awwwww ;(  Very Sad.

As little as I know about trees in general, I know even less about palm trees.  But I recall our realtor explaining to me for some reason while we were first looking at houses here, that palm trees have a center stalk that , well, once it's gone, the tree is gone.  Please note;  No Center Stalk.  I don't know what caused this tree to die.  All the other trees around it look perfectly fine and healthy.  

​This is it's closest neighbor:

At least for today, the neighbor tree looks perfectly fine.  It is green and "frondy" with a center stalk.  A fine healthy palm tree specimen of some sort.  For all I know, the dead one may be just a sort of palm tree that doesn't live very long.  Who knows?  Certainly not me.  

And as emotional and weirdly sentimental as I am about any green growing thing no longer being green and growing, I am also practical.  The tree had to come down.

If the tree were situated in the back of the house, the job of removing it probably could wait a bit.  Even if it lived on the side of the house, I could probably have put the task off for a short time.  But no, this particular tree sits right in the middle of our circular driveway where it can be seen by anyone driving by, walking by, bicycling by and worse, by me every time I looked out the front window. Dang.

By the way, why is it called a circular driveway?  It very clearly is a semi-circle not a full circle.  just wondering.

At any rate,  I rummaged through the utility room until I found my gardening gloves and a random saw. I narrowed my eyes and headed out  to dispatch the dead tree with determination in my heart.

I circled the tree a few times debating where to begin the cut, finally worked out my game plan, placed the saw and began.  The saw bit in and I went to work, feverishly sliding the saw back and forth, back and forth kicking up tree ferb and beginning to sweat profusely.  

My saw began to snag and I had to pull it back out, re-set and begin again over and over.  Dang.  Clearly this was the wrong sort of saw.  I returned to the utility room tool chest to find another saw.

Second random saw secured, I began again.  Ahhh, much better.  This saw was smoother, less grabby and I felt like finally I was getting somewhere. Even small progress is still progress.  I'm good with that.

I cut in one spot for awhile, then moved to the other side and cut from there.  Then to the side and of course the other side.  I wanted a very controlled fall.  It isn't as if it were a huge tree.  This was no giant sequoia.  But it was still heavy enough to hurt a nearby tree, my car, a passerby, the mailbox or me if it fell in that particular direction.

I sawed until I thought my arm was going to fall off.  I switched hands and sawed some more.  I switched back and wiped the sweat out of my eyes.  A bunny stopped in the shade of a nearby tree to watch me in great fascination.  Birds were lined up on a tree branch, not singing but starring down at me intently. It's hard to read the eyes of a wild creature.  They were  either thinking, "I wonder what she is doing?' or "Stop cutting down trees!" 

"Hey guys!" I explained during a break, "I'm not hurting the tree. It needs to come down.  I swear!"  Lizards gathered nearby to watch.

Finally I was almost completely through.  Experimentally, I gave the tree a little push.  It drooped the tiniest bit.  I pushed harder.  It drooped a little lower.  I put my back against a different tree trunk and pushed for all I was worth and with a mighty crack, the tree was down.  

​The birds, the lizards, the bunny and I all cheered.

I felt very accomplished as I hauled the tree over to the side of the house where today, when the lawn guys come by, they will take it away for me.  I also felt sore, tired, sweaty, hot and thirsty.

So I went back inside, cleaned and put away the tools, washed up, had a full glass of water and then rewarded myself with a pint of ice cream.  It was glorious.

​Just call me Sam Bunyan!