I wonder if it is possible to become attached to a tree . A large sugar maple has stood alongside my driveway , right on the property line for the entirety of that time . It is tall, 75 feet or more. The trunk is thick, it would take two of me joining hands to wrap around its girth.. There was a white wooden fence that butted against it when we first moved in. It was painted several times by me, but it tired and began to droop and rot, so I removed it. When I removed the fence the tree became the dominant object of that part of the yard. Every fall for many years I would grab my camera and go out and photograph the leaves of that tree. I would try and catch the sunlight hitting the leaves in that brilliant fall spectacle. My photos never did quite match the colors that I saw with my naked eye. So the better picture was always in my mind. Golden yellows and reds and oranges against a blue October sky spoke of fall and the refreshing change in the air. That is how I will remember the tree. None of the other trees of the neighborhood seemed capable of rivaling the display. This tree always made me glad in the months before the snow flew.
As a driveway mechanic, I would sometimes lay on the driveway while reaching under the car to change the oil, I would look up and see the tree spread out above me, sometimes I would just stare, not unlike a child who lays in the grass staring skyward letting his imagination run.
The little house that was next door when we moved in was knocked down and a large home build on the lot. The owners put in a driveway and apparently this upset the tree, for it began to show signs of distress. Were its strong roots severed by the machined, was water no longer reaching them ? Increasing numbers of dead branches were seen in the canopy. Some would drop unexpectedly, thankfully while the driveways were empty of cars or playing children.
Last year the trunk of the tree began to ooze a smelly sticky liquid, which attracted flies , which in turn attracted my attention. Hmmm, attracted by flies---what does that say about me ? If a tree can't get gangrene this was the equivalent. The sickly sweet smell, the ooze. Clearly there was something wrong, the greater number of dropping dead branches. Late last fall a large limb cracked and dropped part of the way down. It remained hung up on the tree, presenting a danger, so I launched a rope over it and pulled it down. It was twilight of a cold November Sunday and I was a bit put out at having to work into the evening, when I should have been relaxing before the workweek. When it hit the ground , it did so with a force that frightened me. I realized that had the branch fallen on someone they would have been killed. For my part I escaped unharmed , shaken at the suddenness of the drop, but unharmed. But I had been warned.
I tried to see if there was a cure, I applied fertilizer around the base of the tree. I sprayed the insects to keep them from doing further damage to the bark and trunk, I sprayed an alcohol mix on the trunk as the diagnosis was a bacterial infection. This spring the ooze had stopped and the tree seemed to be holding its own, the dead wood still remained up top, but the tree leafed out pretty fully. But about a month ago the ooze returned and branches started to drop again. The dormancy of winter and the force of spring did not change the inevitable. I began to fear that someone would not be as lucky as I had been last year in avoiding a deadfall.
Consultation with my neighbor and an agreement to split the cost of removal brought us to this day.
The tree guys come today to cut down the stately maple. Better they should cut it down while I am at work. The trunk will be left behind, I shall count the rings and mourn the fact that come fall the brilliance of the leaves of this singular fine old friend will be denied me.
Sad these passages of life.