Once upon a time nine years ago, I wandered into the backyard nursery of a lady with a spectacular green thumb. Her garden/nursery was filled with all sorts of amazing cuttings that grew freely and wildly. In the midst of this jungle of generation, a lone Curly Willow grew quietly in a 5-gallon pot. I had never seen such a pretty tree and soon she had a home with me.
She stayed in her pot for the first year and then I decided to free her into the yard. I picked a spot next to our fence with the assurance that shade would soon cover our patio. And so it did.
For eight seasons, my beautiful tree provided shade, shed its leaves, and filtered the rain in the spring. Birds found shelter there and nesting material was picked with abandon.
Curly willow example -not my yard.
But sadly, two years after putting in a brick patio, my pretty willow had another growth spurt pushing her to 40+ feet. Outward she stretched her roots, untimately lifting my bricks and tearing apart my Celtic cross design we had so carefully created. I knew my tree's days were numbered. And so it was that today I came home for lunch and found this.
I didn't know it would hurt so much.
14 comments:
Oh, it does hurt. We picked our house in part because of the trees. We have lost our weeping birch due to the bronze birch borer and our apple tree due to old age and blight. We have a humungous American elm in the backyard. If we lost that our yard would be entirely changed. Fortunately, Bismarck seems to be holding back Dutch elm disease. And it hurt so much to see our neighbors cut down their huge crabapple tree because he was tired of picking up crabapples.
When we first bought here thirty years ago, a very wise nurseryman told me to plant trees quickly.
Sadly, some of those very trees have gone where old trees go. The baby ones that are now replacing them look somehow out of place in mature landscaping..
What a shame it had to be cut down but with the roots doing so much damage, there really was no choice. One of our neighbours had to have 2 beautiful huge trees cut down from her front yard because the roots were starting to come through the cement walls in her basement! xox
Oh, how sad! We have a wonderful raywood ash in the backyard that may have to go and I know I won't want to be here when it happens. Trees are so majestic.
It is sad to see it go. Shade provides so much relief from the heat of summer. And curly willow has such beautiful branches to use in decorating.
Annie - before they take the cuttings away, go and collect some lovely twisted branches. I have a few in a large jug with faery lights and it looks magickal. You can hang treasures from the branches.
Oh Annie ~ I am sorry. Reading this made me sad for you... and the tree.
miss*r had a good idea. I have some curly willow branches in a clay pot (made to look old) sitting on my antique sewing machine, with a mirror behind it.
It does catch your eyes because it is so pretty how the branches curl.
Ouch! Those are gorgeous trees Annie, I feel your loss. BIG HUG
oh I feel your pain! We moved here in 1982 and in the back was a lemon tree...it produced the sweetest lemons. For YEARS we'd give bags away and would use them ourselves of course. I even have a framed photo I took of a close up of one of the lemons on the tree. THEN we had a new fence put around the yard and relocated the big gate for a new driveway. This meant having to have the tree removed....guess what...still no driveway has been poured. I miss that tree as if it was a lost pet.
Hugs to you!
XOXO
Oh the pain .... we had to get some tree loppers in last year to do some pruning, they used boot spikes and left holes which bled sap and made me feel guilty for not letting the tree be as it was *!*
Aw - so sad! Sorry, Annie. xo
Now I am nervous, having just planted a willow tree last week!
That is so sad. I have never had a willow tree but I have always wanted one. I am sorry, Annie!
I've always thought that willow trees were very romantic. As a child we had one in the front yard and I would sit under its big boughs for hours playing and reading. Really magical trees.
I am very sorry for the loss of your beloved tree, Annie.
Post a Comment