I'm biting the bullet and having trees removed. EIGHTEEN trees. And the thing is... this won't even make a dent in the forested sanctuary of my back yard. The biggest difference will be to the front yard, where 4 out of the 5 trees will be removed.
I feel somewhat guilty about the oak... it is a nice tree. At least, it's nice until early November, when I start to curse its name. The leaves of my maples fall politely all at once, and I dedicate one afternoon to mulching them for my garden beds. The leaves on the oak, on the other hand, start falling around Halloween and continue to fall until March. And then there's all the other droppings... the tree is always pooping sticks onto my yard. It's also decorated with widow-makers: giant broken limbs hanging 60 feet up, just waiting for the perfect storm to knock them loose.
And then there's the ACORNS. Millions of them. The yard becomes like the ball pit at Ikea, if the balls were marbles with tiny sharp prongs that stab the bottoms of bare feet. I swear the squirrels throw them with force... my bedroom is a percussion instrument. I *!@%$* hate acorns.
Giant oak and three dying firs... these are on my top-ten list of trees to remove.
Then there are the scraggly ugly trees in the back yard that are irritating to mow around and add no beauty. There are a few crowded fir trees that are becoming weak and attracting carpenter ants... they're dead vertical fire starters. A couple others have made sport of dropping onto my fence.
Above: One of the black birches in a small stand decided to let go one winter storm. Just as well, since I keep having to rip out the root-runner babies.
Left: A storm in December 2014 snapped this leaning maple in half. I'm not sad to see them go, since its brother is bigger, and leaning farther onto my property. It worried me that someday they'd hurt more than just the fence.
Sadie surveys the wreckage.
Loam spread in the front yard.
The yard before, with 14 trees scheduled to be removed.
The yard after, with plenty of trees left.