Western Shade

In 1977, I dug a whorl of five cottonwoods from my Oak Street place and planted them at the southwest corner of the house on Park, planning on having shade in a few years.  As they grew, I got the shade I wanted.  I liked the way they reminded me of the cottonwoods in the dry washes of Western Colorado I once hiked.  I liked the shower of cotton each spring, some days as thick as a snow storm.  I liked the afternoon shade in the summer and the light through the bare branches in winter.

I wasn't too fond of the way sprouts kept shooting up all over the lawn, but I managed to keep ahead of them.  As the five original grew, I cut them too, one at a time, when they spread over the house or started leaning too far.  But the last one kind of got away from me, reaching some 60 feet tall.  As it leaned away from the house over the orchard, I wasn't too concerned.  Finally, however, I started worrying about what damage the roots might do to the house foundation if the tree fell, and as it was bigger than I thought I could safely deal with, I arranged to have it removed.

On August 7, about 8 in the morning, Tim of Tim's Tree Service called to say his crew would be there in about 15 minutes.  They were, with a rubber tracked high lift which they walked into the drive and set up.

With it, the cutter started at the bottom and worked his way up.

Two hours later, the last cottonwood was a pile of leaves and branches.

Not one branch had hit the roof.

The final step was cutting the trunk.

Then they left.  For $1,100 more, they would have chipped and cleaned and for an additional $200, grind out the stump, but for that money I figured I could move the remains to the fence along the back pasture now lined with blackberry vines.  I hooked the three-wheeler to the utility trailer and stared cutting and hauling.

I have plans for the trunk.  More later.