The linden tree

For the first time since the linden tree was taken down, I mowed the grass. I reflected that when a big tree comes down, so much is lost--the shade from the tree canopy, the branches that held birds' nests, the leaves that fell in the spring, the companionship of the tree trunk as I worked in the garden, the money to pay the arborist and his crew, and the little sprout of native yaupon that is now buried under a pile of stump grindings. What is gained is sunlight and room to plant more trees. Now the fringe tree can grow upright instead of reaching out from under the shade of the linden oak.

The linden tree stood at the front of the yard. The first time we engaged our arborist, he surprised us by saying that the laurel cherry by the living room was fine. It was the sweet gum by the front door that needed to come down. It had a rotten fork, as sweet gums are prone to have. He gave the live oak by the driveway a clean bill of health, but the linden oak, he said, was at its prime. That was ten years ago. During those years, it dropped large branches three or four times, until all that was left two weeks ago was the main trunk and a large area of rot where the other branches had come off. We had concerns about safety.

There remain some clean up chores to do. The pile of stump grindings is composting now, and later I will rake it up and use it as mulch. Several holes in the grass show where pieces of the tree fell as they dismantled it. I'll fill them with sand from the endless supply that builds up in the culvert so the grass can grow back. And most importantly, I will study the new light patterns and think of what to plant in the new area that has been created, like a room added onto the house.