[If you’ve been trying to access Brandywine Books, or waiting for updates, we apologize. We suffered a malicious denial of service attack. The problem has been addressed, at least for now.

This piece was meant to be posted Thursday evening. lw]

The most impressive thing about my property is now gone. Fortunately I’m not talking about my house.

I had a great big tree, a pine or some kind of fir, at the back of my lot, in a space between my garage, my neighbor’s fence, and my retaining wall. It was very tall and wide. It was even older than I am. My neighbor on the downhill side told me the previous owner had planted it just after World War II, when he got back from the service.

Unfortunately, it had utility lines running through it, and that same neighbor asked me, as a personal favor, to get it taken out. So I found a guy who’d do it for a reasonable price, and his crew finally made it here late this morning, and set to work with chain saws, climbing gear, and a chipper.

It took them several hours, but they finally left some time after 5:00 p.m. I didn’t actually realize they were gone. I thought they’d knock on the door and give me a bill when they’d finished, but they just made like a tree and leaved (the owner called later to make arrangements for me to pay him. Trusting fellow). I stepped out onto the back porch, and nobody was there. Except there was a pile of mulch about the size of a Volkswagen piled in my uphill neighbors’ driveway.

I had a moment of panic there, but the neighbors, when I went over to inquire, told me they’d asked the tree guys to leave it for them. Free mulch for their gardening endeavors. Blocking their garage, at the moment.

So my great tree’s story is told. It is gone like the summers of my youth, leaving a lonesome place against the sky (points for anyone who can identify that reference).