Stumped

We are so blessed that our yard has several mature trees. Unfortunately, mature trees are harder to maintain and take extra assistance to prune. So, the bigger trees in our yard don't get pruned beyond what we can reach with a ladder and a chainsaw. Last June, a windstorm took two major branches off one of the big trees in the yard that lines the driveway. I blogged about it HERE.

 

(This was the view from above our driveway--you can see two large trees next to each other, and the first tree has 2 tear marks in the bark where the branches ripped off.)

The thing I loved most about this particular tree was that there was a branch that arched over the driveway. The arch was high enough that tractors and trucks could pass under it without a problem. It felt so welcoming to drive home and pass under the tree branch!

(This was the view looking from our home down the driveway--the broken branches blocked the gravel-covered ground. This is a beautiful view of the arch.)

The tree was so old and rotting out, and my father-in-law was concerned that the arching branch would snap in another windstorm due to the weight of the new growth on the tip of it. So while they were cutting up the broken branches, he decided it would be a good time to cut that branch off, too. I persuaded them to just cut the new growth off, and leave the arch, and thankfully they agreed to do just that.

(Edward raised up the scoop on his tractor with his friend in it, and the heavy growth was cut down at the end of the arch, seen here:)

It was a big cut, (but a healthy one for the tree), and it made the arch much more visible. I absolutely  loved the new look!

(This is another view of the tree and the arch over our driveway, looking down the driveway from our home in the winter time.)

 

I loved that arch. I was very attached to it.

 

I'm saying "loved" and "attached" in the past tense, because the arch is no longer there. I'm not bitter about it anymore, so I'm ready to share the story of its death with you, coming from a good place instead of a sour spot in my heart.

 

Edward & Kathy also have a lot of mature trees in their yard, and they wanted some tree-trimming done, so they hired a man to do the job for them. Then they offered to also have that man trim the broken tree in our yard; there was a lot of dead branches in it, and it was necessary to remove a lot of them so that future windstorms wouldn't cause more damage to it and the surroundings. We greatly appreciated their generosity, and accepted their offer. One afternoon in early spring, the tree service guy came out and looked around the place at the trees we were requesting trimming. When he looked at this specific tree, I pointed out all the dead branches towards the top that I'd like to have removed. He listened politely, and then he said that in a tree this old, there's a lot of rot and it would be best to cut it completely down. I was shocked. I recognized that what he was saying was true, but I wanted to save the arch. I asked him if he could just cut from the arch up, but Josh and Edward agreed with him that the tree could just come down. The tree guy said he would be back in a few weeks to do the job, and that he would call before he came, so that we could remove the fence panels surrounding it and move the bench swing that was next to it out of the way. During those few weeks, I worked on explaining over and over to Josh my reasoning of wanting to keep the arch. (I kept telling myself that I was like the Lorax, and that it was my job to speak for the trees.) He finally agreed with me, and we decided that when the tree guy called, we would tell him to just remove everything higher than the arch. We waited and waited, but he never called.

 

One afternoon in April, I came home from a very crazy day at school to see this:

The tree guy had come unannounced during the day while we were at work, removed the fence panel, moved the swing out of the way, and chopped the tree down.

I immediately went into the house, into my room, onto my bed, and cried for about a half hour. I was so angry and broken-hearted! That arch had begun growing over 80 years ago, and it felt so tragic to have it be gone in an instant. Every day for about 2 weeks after, whenever I drove past it coming or going, I felt sad. I mourned the loss of the beautiful, natural arch that was so perfectly draped over my driveway. I hated the new stump that was left in its absence. I hated how the stump wasn't cut level. I hated how it looked out of place--the bench swing had always been between the two large trees, and now it didn't look symmetrical anymore. I hated how it stood out like a sore thumb to me.

I AM grateful that they removed all the dead on the tree, because that corner of the yard has so much more light now, and the bushes and pear tree that were previously in its shade, are growing so much better now. But, I knew that I couldn't look at that stump in my yard for the rest of forever without feeling angry and remorseful. After feeling this way for a while, I began considering new ideas to rid the yard of the ugly stump--like cutting it off ground level and covering it with a shed. Then I was enlightened with a way to transform it. I told Josh my idea--the plan was for him to cut the stump straight across (to make it level), and then cut out the center of stump a few inches deep, and I would make the stump into a natural planter box. I was so relieved when he consented to do the task!

One evening at the end of  May, he got out the chainsaw and began the job of cutting through 120 years of growth (I counted the rings in the stump).

 

 

 

It took him a lot longer to cut through it than he anticipated--about an hour and a half. The chainsaw had to be sharpened mid-way, and refilled with gas, and there was a lot of cursing going on through it all. I laid on the grass near him, watching him labor with angst, and I smiled the whole time because I felt such love for this man who was willing to perform this challenging task just to make me happy. And it did make me happy! But as I watched him have such difficulty with just leveling the hard, thick stump, I devised a new plan: instead of hollowing out part of the inside, I would just create a planter on top of the leveled stump, and put some kind of trim around it. He liked that idea--he was ready to stop cutting for the day, anyway!

I thought about the new idea for a few days, and decided that bricks would be a good choice to put around the edge of the stump because they would be tall and uniformal, but they wouldn't be too wide and take up too much space from the planter. So I found some old bricks (with Josh's help) and placed two rows of them around the edges, filled the middle with topsoil, and planted the remainder of my Mother's Days flowers that the boys had given me weeks before (that had just been sitting on the deck for weeks in their plastic containers). I'm so happy with how it turned out!

I love seeing the bright colored flowers in that corner of the yard. Whenever I drive by it now, I look at the beautiful flowers in that stump and I'm filled with happiness again. I still wish the arch was there, but this was the second best choice for the tree that was cut down. And it wouldn't have been possible without Josh's help. I think of this planter stump as the memorial to the arch; it's like the tree that keeps on giving!