THE TREE HANGS ON AND OVER
by Mike Stevens
I have given it the name Goliath; I thought that friendlier than Godzilla. My wife thinks we ought to name it, That Which Encroaches on Everything it Meets. Whatever.
It is for sure a classic example of what can happen when one plants a tree without much thought to how big the thing will become. In Go’s case (I like that informal means of address) the matter has gotten out of hand. It is a variety of maple, I think, and it not only is a quick grower by nature but it loves the location. Had it only been planted by the previous owners another fifty feet out we would have been in great shape. As it turns out the deck has very little if any sun on it after noon or so. Not a bad thing, really, except on those days when the air is chilly and some sun feels good.
Well, not much we can do about it now. I have become close personal friends with a tree crew for they have been here many times. When they leave it’s always, “See you in about two years, Mike.” Sure enough, they’re back before long trimming, clipping, telling me again how Goliath can’t be stopped, he will grow wherever he wants and as much as he wants. Our meager efforts, they remind me, are little more than a finger in the dike standing between our humble home and the mountain of greenery that is Goliath.
I think I’ll just keep pruning; the crew needs the work, I need the tree. Let the next guy worry about it.