My 4-story gum bumelia had to be removed this week. After half of it broke off in wind storms and another 1/4 was hacked by the power company, it was time for me to say good-bye.
I had a couple pet names for that tree: the Dr. Seuss tree, the squirrel tree, the tree-that's-going-to-fall-and-take-the-transformer-with-it tree, etc.
It costs a lot of money to have a tree removed. On top of that, I hate to see tall trees go, especially when wildlife enjoys it so much! A squirrel family of five was living out of one of the pockets in the tree last year. Of course, the tree wasn't that wide around, so I had to suspect that if 5 squirrels could fit in one hole (and actually climb through the tree out a hole on the other side!) then there probably wasn't much holding this tree up besides my hopes and prayers.
So, I decided the other day to be proactive and remove it.
Oddly enough. Now that it's gone I don't feel the sense of relief or good judgment that I thought I would. I just see a very smooth, 20-inch diameter wood platter where a 4-story squirrel motel once stood. The non-interrupted flow of energy in the yard feels disquieting.
I also think the grass is going to fry this summer with no shade.
I don't know if it's too late to plant a tree for the season, but I'm going to look this weekend for a future replacement. Now that I don't have to worry about a new tree getting squashed by falling timber, I want to start growing a new squirrel motel as soon as possible.
2 years ago