Last week we had a very windy day and one of the three tall pines in our back yard snapped in two.  The odd thing is that I watched it happen.  Two things struck me.  One was my instinctual protective mother action of gasping aloud, grabbing hold of Carina and pulling her tight against me.  Even though we were separated from the tree by an exterior wall and 20 feet of deck/flooring.  At least I know I have the instinct. The other thing that was interesting was the sound and feel of the tree falling.  I was sitting on the couch in the living room when the tree caught my attention with a dual-report popping noise, and not only did I see it fall past the window, I heard it whooshing through the air.  When it hit the ground a story and a half below us, I felt it.  I was very glad it fell away from our house and our neighbor’s house.  And now I feel semi-qualified to answer that question about “If a tree falls in the forest…”

Once that tree fell (which was alive) we noticed that the even larger tree behind it was dead.  So we knew we needed to remove it in order to not have a replay of the event described above, which left only the smallest, most-likely-to-hit-the-neighbors’-house-if-it-fell tree, so we decided to remove it too.  Our lot is very sloped, and these trees are at least 30 feet tall, so there was some concern about how to get them out of the back yard.  Luckily, our insurance company happened to send us to a tree service that means serious business.  Many of our friends joke that Craig likes to do things that are EXTREME.  So this was right up his alley.  To bad he was at work and missed all the action.

If you look closely, you can see the guy climbing up the tree to cut the top off (this is the tree that’s dead).

Everyone should have a crane parked in the yard at least once in their lives…

And have a telephone pole dangled over their rooftop…

And a big claw-truck thingy that scares the children.

And the A-#1 source of entertainment for the day for ourselves and several of the (incredibly understanding) neighbors was this, which happened five or six times when it was all said and done.

I’m glad that if the trees had to be removed, it happened the way it happened and when it happened.  But honestly, I really miss my trees.  I loved those tall pines. I liked to watch them sway (ironically) in the breeze, and the kids and I watched the birds and squirrels play in the tops.  I spent many a late evening laying on the couch looking up at the sky through their branches. I wonder if the woodpeckers miss them.  I wonder what happened to all that wood. I never knew being a tree hugger could take an emotional toll.