When a Tree Becomes a Monster

~ Sandi Staton

I love trees. And when we moved here, there were none except for a mighty few. So we planted trees. Lots of trees. Everywhere.

Thirty years ago they were just little twigs. Today, they are monsters . . . especially the one planted right beside the house. A Bradford. With giant limbs stretching across our roof and the neighbor’s house and driveway. It’s a nuisance to us and to them. It’s got to come down. In the meantime, Buck is going to cut off as many limbs as he can. But it’s going to take a skilled professional to take it all the way down.

We didn’t plant trees to cut them down. But we were young and dumb and thought all trees were created equal. They’re not. Some trees are better left in the forest, like the Bradford. It may or may not grow in the forest but if it does, that’s where it should stay.

This is not good.
Not good at all.
Really not good. The tree’s bigger than our house and we have little trees growing in the gutters.
It’s got to come down. SOON!
It was so little when we planted it.
It’s a mighty big tree.
Now it’s way too big.
Too close for comfort.


So, my advice to anyone wanting to plant trees, do your research and find out what to plant and what not to plant. and trust me, a Bradford is one tree you do not want to plant!

Bradford’s in all their glory.
But they are weak and fragile.
One little ice storm can destroy a Bradford and create a big mess.
One of four trees down in one day during an ice storm.
One of four trees down in one day during an ice storm.
Couldn’t get out the driveway that day. A kind neighbor across the road cut it up for us.
Another tree down during an ice storm.
Close up of the tree pinning us in.
This one came down during a rain storm.
Same tree, different angle.

 

Published by Sandi Staton

So, I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to describe myself to you, and these are the words jumping up and down in my heart: I'm just a simple human being living in a complicated, messed-up world. I speak my mind. I love hard. My feelings run deep. When push comes to shove, I stand my ground. Sometimes I push back. Sometimes I walk away. I've surfed the crashing waves of life that threatened to destroy me only to make me stronger. I bear the scars of emotional rape, sadness, and depression. I've walked the golden streets of churches and religion only to be disappointed time and time again. And as a result, it's taken me seventy-five years to get where I'm sitting today; a sinner saved by grace through the blood of Jesus Christ. I fell at the cross. I repented of my sins, and Jesus saved and washed me clean. I still fall flat on my face. I still get dirty as a pig in a mudhole. And Jesus still picks me up, dries my tears, forgives me again and again, and continues walking close beside me. No one has ever loved me like that. And no one ever will.