Where I grew up, we didn’t have many trees. There was a maple in the backyard that, by the time I was in high school, was of decent size, but otherwise, bare. It was one of those “modern” developments: raze everything and build houses.
Our house has a fair number of trees, and I’m fond of them all. Sure, it’s a mess in the autumn, but they provide oxygen, summer noise reduction, and shade. And they’re simply lovely. All trees.
Our neighbor, two houses down, doesn’t think so.
He apparently sees the annoyance factor, for this week he chopped down an enormous poplar that was in his front yard and cutting the heads off all his other trees.
To be fair, the poplar was leaning over his house, and that is the crux of the issue: protecting one’s home often takes precedence over nature. With lawnmowers, mouse traps, and chainsaws, we subdue our small square of land.
It’s how we mark our territory for other species. “Mine: stay out.”
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