I swear we didn’t want to do it.
Cutting down a hardwood tree was the last thing we wanted, but the water oak in the front yard gave us no choice. Five years ago, small limbs began dying and dropping. At the time, the arborist told us it was on its last legs, with maybe eight years to go.
Then a few months ago, a neighbor’s similarly-aged water oak collapsed on a clear, storm-free day — thankfully, away from his house.
Then, during a heavy rain, ours dropped a mammoth 12-foot branch, just a few feet away from the porch.
It was time.
With heavy hearts, we watched the tree service expertly remove one section after another and grind out the remaining stump. It was a good thing, too. That 4-foot-wide trunk had only about six inches of intact wood around its exterior, the rest hollowed out by critters and disease.
Faithful readers know we couldn’t let such an aggression stand without trying to even out our carbon-filtration scorecard. So we immediately began shopping for a replacement and settled on a dwarf fruit tree to complement the blueberry bushes scattered across the front yard.
May I proudly introduce the latest addition to the wee homestead, a Matsumoto persimmon. It’s a type of Fuyu that only grows 10′-12′ tall and is heat- and drought-tolerant. The nursery owner told us it produced fruit last season even though it was potted in a container, so we’re hopeful about harvesting a few treats this fall.
Maybe then, I’ll stop having nightmares about trees seeking revenge for their fallen brethren.