Strike out

There once was a huge silver maple tree in my backyard.  Although we found its root system a terrible inconvenience, we all enjoyed its lovely shade.  Sadly, old age combined with the worse drought in years dealt a death blow to the grand tree. 

Although the tree leafed out this spring as normal, it started dropping large branches; the wood was brittle and dry.   In addition, there were suckers sprouting from the base and along the major trunks, yet another sign of severe stress.  When I pruned the suckers from the base, I discovered that they were masking growing decay in the main trunk and two of the four main branches. 

A decision had to be made; would we let the tree slowly die by allowing it to continue to drop branches at random times or should we have the tree removed to avoid the risk of property damage or worse, injury to someone beneath the tree.  After already losing two trees this summer, it was difficult to make the decision to remove yet another one.   But there was really no other reasonable choice.

This morning, I sadly surveyed the wreck of my lovely shaded garden.  I've moved some plants to other shady spots in my backyard, others will probably survive, while some may fade away in the bright sun.  I've acquired a few sun-loving shrub cuttings to plant there in the fall.  I asked the tree men to cut the stump high to use as a pedestal memorial to our tree. 

Losing three trees feels like a strike out; a failure at landscape design.  The truth is that a garden is an ever-changing, always developing endeavor.  Death is a part of the process of life that requires me to constantly assess where I am and challenges me to adapt and grow.