Goodbye Dear Tree - The Story of a Fallen Oak

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Rochester, Minnesota, USA was founded in 1854. The early settlers valued trees so much they marked their locations and types on maps. When my husband and I bought our home there were three oak trees in the yard. We really loved the tree by our deck. It was there when the early settlers arrived and, according to one expert, the tree was about 200 years old.

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Robins, juncos, finches, mourning doves and cardinals rested on its branches. Squirrels built nests in the top of the tree. Deer bedded down for the night beneath its shade and shelter. Flocks of turkeys waddled through the woods. Watching the wildlife and the tree's seasonal changes were spiritual experiences for us.

Several years ago the tree became diseased. We called a tree expert and he injected the tree with chemicals. But the disease continued to spread. Again, we had the tree injected and the crew covered the damaged area with wire mesh to discourage woodpeckers. All of these efforts failed.

"It's going to fall down," the tree expert said. "I don't know when, but I'm worried about it falling on your house." My husband and I worried even more about the tree falling on other houses. We didn't want to cut the tree down, but had no choice.

The tree crew, four strong men wearing hardhats, arrived at 7:15 a.m. with a cherry picker truck. They had to wait for a rain storm to pass before they could start work. Forty-five minutes later, the crew leader, holding a chain saw in his hands, waved to us from the cherry picker. Hovering over the top of the tree, he cut one branch, and then another.

All day, we heard grinding chain saws and the thud of branches. The ground crew sawed the branches into logs. In removing the tree we were removing history, a link with the settlers who had the courage to come here, and live off the land. How would the yard look without the tree? What would our lives be like?

"The logs are so heavy that we have to lift them out with a crane," the company owner said. "It will be here soon." The crane parked in front of the house and the operator swung its arm over the roof. "Watch out for the chimney!" the owner exclaimed. Now we were really nervous.

Neighbors came by to see the crane in action. As the sun dipped lower in the sky the log pile grew higher. The pile was so large that traffic had to be diverted around it. The crane hoisted the logs into a truck and they were taken away. The job was done. We went out on the deck to look at the results.

A large stump and sawdust were all that remained. But the image of the magnificent oak, its colors changing with the seasons, stayed in our minds. "Goodbye dear tree," I called. "We will always miss you."

Copyright 2007 by Harriet Hodgson

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