We have a very sad looking Maple Tree in our backyard. Half of it is dead…literally. Draw a line right down the center. Half. Dead. Apparently once it had been hit by lightening, and some bird had been having quite the feast after pecking hundreds of holes in it. It was not going to get us featured on a garden walk.
I contacted the local tree company, told them we needed to trim the trees, and would they mind taking down the Maple before it fell over and took out one of the kids. In a few days, I am expecting to hear from them, informing me of the date for the tree butchery.
So you can imagine our surprise, when sitting on the porch this lovely night, at not seeing the Maple tree. We were actually discussing when they were going to come to take it out, when our attention was drawn to the big hole where the Maple used to be.
Running out with flashlights, expecting to find the finally “exhausted beyond all caring” tree strewn about the backyard in a sea of arborial carnage, we found nothing. Not a fallen tree, not even so much as an errant twig.
What we did find was the perfectly sawn off stump, almost level to the ground, of our missing tree. They must have come today while we were at the park and put the poor thing out of its misery.
Now, I am a person that considers myself fairly observant. I knew that Shannon Elizabeth and Derrick Hough were dancing in more places than the ABC studios by the third episode of DWTS. I can tell when the children need to be in trouble by the way they smile. But somehow, the fact that an entire tree was missing from my backyard when I returned from the park…well, that was too minute to register.
Of course, we have no confirmation that our tree company is responsible. It could very well be that tree thieves carried it off. We have had a rash of burglaries in the neighborhood.
I have added “shock at tree theft” to the list of strange happenings in my life.
The Blahg 