Saying Goodby to an Old Friend

When I purchased my home in 1993, I saw the potential of the property; 2.7 acres of over grown pastureland boarding a stream in the back. It was mushy to say the least, but what took my eye when I first came on to the property was the sight of this majestic and beautiful old Maple Tree. It stood in place for almost 100 years, shading the cows that once grazed in the summer sun. If it could only speak, I wonder at the stories it could tell of the changes it witnessed through the past century.

One of the first things we did to the land was to fervently clean out under its spreading branches and place several inches of bark mulch to make a clear area for chairs. Here was to be our summer refuge from the heat of the day. Under the shade of the leaves and surrounded by tall grasses, we would sit on hot summer days and stare out at the world, which could not stare back. Many types of birds nested each summer in its massive canopy, which shaded the dog kennel in the afternoon.

To make our spot even more pleasant, I had moved some jack-in-the-puppet from other places on the property to under the tree and they would bloom every spring, spreading with each year. Some wild lily-of-the-valley began to growing and spread each year as well. I will have to move them soon.

We knew the time of our old friend was numbered because of the signs it showed from what weather and nature had thrown at it. When we first moved in, 10 inches of water filled the depression under the branches, along with over an acre of grass. That is another story for another time. We had to drain the property because of the danger of moving septic waste in to the wet lands behind our property.

I had an excavator come in and dig a huge trench in front of the tree, beyond the drip line, to drain the water. I had several others dug as well and, then we filled them in after the ground water drained away. This left the area around the tree beneath it, dry. Too dry. Then for two or three summers, we had little rain and the tree was suffering from lack of water. The line of the ditch also cut in to the roots of the tree on its right side, and with each passing year, that side of the tree never quite recovered. The foliage was small and stunted.

For several years, we would put down a 10-10-10 fertilizer in the spring, and that would give the tree a small boost. We just did that about two weeks ago. This has been an exceptionally early spring for western Massachusetts in New England, with the warm weather arriving in mid March and staying. We have not had the rain we normally would at this time of year and the snowfall during winter was almost non-existent. We had only three small storms that left any kind of an amount all winter. While the eastern part of the state had record snowfalls, we had very little. It was all gone by February.

The fact that the tree sat in so much water for years, then with little water from a short draught, then the roots stressed from a huge excavator, and being hit my lightning twice in two different summers, we could see how nature was taking its toll on this magnificent specimen. Several thick upper branches fell after being hit both times, and the left side was showing more and more signs of the stress. We knew that time is limited. Sooner or later it would die. But we hoped it would be later and not sooner, when we saw the end come.

Yesterday, may 4, 2010, we were hit by a massive storm front with over 70 mile an hour wind gusts. Trees were coming down across the road in stands of old White Pine. Our willows bent with the gusts that tore their branches and scattered them across the yard. I watched from a window as the wind blew and raked at the trees, trying to push over what stood tall and straight for many years. How was the Maple making out? Well, it was blowing around but nothing major happened. Or at least while I watched. I then went to the front of the house to see how the tall pines were holding out across the road.

The storm front moved at a very high of speed and the whole thing was over within 30 minutes. The rain came hard but was gone so quickly that it only moistened a ¼ inch of soil; that was better than no rain at all. Then we saw the damage to the Maple. The huge limb that was slowly separating from the back of the main trunk had broken off and was lying on top of the kennel fence, which was on the ground. Over half of the tree was gone in a split second.

I went out to see the damage the wind had caused and was surprised at the loss of canopy. My heart sank. Our beautiful tree was broken. Most of the right half was broken and laying on the ground. The storm had taken its final toll on it. The only thing remaining was to clear the damage, fix the fence, and take down the remaining parts of the tree. For several hours after the storm, we worked on the large limb, taking off the branches to make it easier to cut in to movable size sections. With each cut, I could almost feel the blades as they removed branch after branch. Today, we cut and removed the remainder of the limb, and managed to repair the fence. The dogs had their space once again.

In between the tree and the fence grew several small birches, a wild cherry, and stands of pussy willow. These trees snapped by the weight of the limb and the bushes mangled as the branches fell across them. This area will need clearing as well. Along our road, tree limbs fell and clean up is in full tilt. We lost power for several hours at night. Even though this major force blew quickly across the state tearing trees and causing fires with its lightning, there were no deaths.

The loss of the tree will change the landscape of the property, but no one was injured, the dogs are safe, and the shed remains in tact. For that, we are thankful.

Tomorrow we will cut the remaining half or the tree into manageable-sized pieces. We will it cut up and sell it as chord wood. At least this mighty giant will heat the home of someone during the cold winter months, giving comfort in its death as it did in its life. So, I say goodbye to an old friend and cherish the moments I sat under its graceful, drooping branches watching the birds flit amongst its high canopy and feel the gentle breezes blow through its mighty limbs. It will be missed.

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