I Cry For Broken Trees

Hurricane Sandy claimed a few trees as victims in our yard as her trailing winds blew through the Northeast Ohio region. Our home remains upright and dry, for we were not, in any way, in the eye of the storm and for that, I am grateful.

I can't help but feel a tinge (OK, that's an understatement) of sadness over the loss of those trees. We live in typical suburbia. Our home is found in a planned neighborhood where sidewalks run down every street, where lot sizes are the size of matchbox cars, and where finding trees in the yard is like finding a Yankee in Mississippi - trees are precious commodities. So, when we end up losing two trees, it's a pretty big deal. It changes the landscape, especially in this case. The two towering pine trees we've enjoyed for years acted as a natural privacy fence to the neighbors behind us; so much so, I don't even have drapery coverings in the kitchen because we've always felt shielded from view. Not any more:-(

The view before the chainsaw.

I now stand at the kitchen sink, more aware of the flood light above my head as it spotlights my pan-washing abilities to the neighbors. And, I'm sure it's no picnic for them, either. I now have a clear, unabated view directly into their family room. If I stare long enough, I can see the video games the kids are playing on their computer. I'm not sure what's worse: that our lives have been exposed to one another or that this new view may cause unjust arrest for voyeurism. I want my privacy back!!!

The view after: hello neighbor!

We can't plant new trees until Spring and it won't be a quick fix anyways. Do you know how many years it's going to take for those trees to grow to the size of their ancestors? As I am tempted to put up a For Sale sign in the front yard and move to the forest, Super Hubby calms me down and gets all "positive-talk" crap on me. But, all I want to do is sulk and be upset at something I cannot change. Grow up, Lilly. I read some of my old posts as if I were a new visitor to this blog and the words of wisdom (that I, myself, wrote) started to absorb through my thick skull. Just another bump in the road. As my Dad says, "You get used to it." And so, for now, I'll have to learn to get used to it. I will spend the next hour perusing the Blinds.com site and see if a nice Roman shade above the window sink might be a good solution in gaining privacy. I will think about all the people on the East Coast trying to find where their kitchen sink used to be. I will be thankful that a loss of a few trees is the only thing I've got to be upset over.
 

Even our Pear Tree needed some work.

It's truly all about perspective and my sadness over a loss of a few trees and $700 (the unexpected expense of cutting down the trees, stump grinding, and peforming tree surgery to another tree that split) is trite compared to the devastation seen by so many out East. But, reality is truth. So, here's the truth dear family and friends: unless you are under the age of 12 years old, there will be no Christmas gift for you under our tree this year. There will always, however, be an open door where we welcome you with open arms, a set table, and an abundance of good food and even better love to share with y'all!
(and for all the neighbors to see - bonus!)

Every tree is worth trying to save in our yard!

Now, go hug a tree!