I’ve written before about my husband’s bald cypress tree. We had it chopped down last week, at our neighbor’s request. If it had been my doing, it would have been chopped down many years ago.
In my earlier post, I explained the bald cypress’s messiness and the inconvenience of raking it to keep the grass alive underneath. Not only did it kill anything its acidic needles touched, the needles also clogged the gutters of both our house and our neighbor’s house. Hence, his request that it be killed before we leave the neighborhood. I was happy to agree, and my husband—who is the one to unclog our gutters—acquiesced as well. Once our realtor said it wouldn’t hurt our property value to remove it, that tree was doomed.
Nevertheless, it was sad to watch the bald cypress come down. I didn’t like killing a healthy tree. (Unfortunately, that tree was just too healthy for its own good.) Now there are no trees planted on that side of our house. And I feared its removal would leave a gaping hole.
I’d observed while our diseased ash tree was cut down in 2015, which gave me some idea of what to expect with the bald cypress tree. 2015 was the year our daughter’s dog Langley visited. Langley and I sat beside my front window and frowned at the men for hours while they took down the ash, which was broader than, although not quite as tall as, the cypress. I’d liked that ash tree and I knew I would miss it. Langley just wanted to keep the bad guys out of the house.
The cypress’s execution was scheduled for last Wednesday. Tuesday afternoon, my neighbor and I marked all the sprinkler heads on that side of the house, so the tree guys wouldn’t drop the logs on the sprinklers.
Wednesday, starting at about 10:00, I peered from an upstairs window while the tree guys cut it down. First, a man in a cherry picker lopped off the smaller branches, starting at the crown of the tree. When he reached the bottom, he then went back up to the top, where he cut off the thicker branches and the trunk in about four-foot lengths. After a couple hours work, the tree only had its main trunk and the first vee of major branches left. By 1:00pm, it was down to a stump.
The workmen sliced through that stump and hauled it off.
And then the last bit of the trunk was ground into mulch.
All we have left is a large circle of wood chips. We’re told that will slowly sink and then we can plant grass seed.
Only in the last year or so has the hole left from the ash tree’s removal become unnoticeable, so it might take years for any grass to take root where the bald cypress was. And because we are moving, we won’t be the ones to cover over this tree’s demise.
That bald cypress’s presence loomed large in my life every autumn as I anticipated the needles dropping, then raked them on cold wet days. I really haven’t missed it in the last few days as I’ve driven in and out of the garage.
And I’m sure I won’t miss raking those needles this autumn when we’re moved to our new home. I doubt our neighbors will miss it either.
Have you ever felt bad about killing a plant?
