It was a difficult decision to make. Harder maybe for me, then for my gardener wife, who understand these things.
Last year I mentioned how a wind storm ripped two large limbs off the poplars at the back of our yard. Fortunately for us, the branches toppled northward, across the fence separating our yard from our nextdoor neighbor. He was very good about it, and we worked together with a chainsaw to cut the wood up and get it off the fence and out of our yards.
But it was a warning, of sorts. The poplars are older, and mature, and had the branches toppled to the southeast, they’d have been on the roof of neighbors behind us.
This view is from behind our house; the gap between the trees shows where the limbs broke loose last October.
If that were to happen, it could get a whole lot more expensive than tree removal. Dave, my assistant brewer, by the way, has lobbied adamantly against the move. “Your trees are one of the best things about this yard!” he scolds me. I agree. I like our trees.
But not enough to risk a big insurance hassle, including removing fallen limbs and reparing a roof.
The leaves fell late last autumn, which reduces the “sail” effect that tore the largest branch loose last year, sending it down onto another branch it ripped loose with it. So we didn’t have to worry about it again last winter, and the summers are mild enough here that when the tree re-foliated, I didn’t worry (too much) about the return of the flying branches.
But our winter storm season is returning, so we got an estimate. Which involved a dollar amount with crooked numbers and a comma, giving me further pause.
But we finally bit the bullet and arranged for the trimmers to come. The cost of complete removal was really high, but we agree to have them topped, and agreed on how far to take them down.
Butchery. I admit it. butchery. And I apologize to the tree gods. My only excuse is monetary. Lucre, filthy lucre!