Sometimes a tree just has to go. This flowering cherry has been sitting under a death sentence for several years. Mark planted it maybe 25 years ago and while it was quite a good shape, it rarely flowered and just grew larger, casting shade over other plants that were working harder for their continued existence. It will have been a named variety but we have long since lost the name.
“I am going to cut that cherry out,” said Mark about four years ago. It was as if the tree heard him and it confounded us by suddenly producing its best ever display of 2015. But 2016 and 2017 came and it was resting on its laurels of one decent enough performance, returning to its usual pattern of just a few scattered blooms.
One of the most useful skills Mark learned in his twenties was how to use a chainsaw safely. Possibly even more importantly, he learned the limits of his skills with the chainsaw and when it is necessary to pay for outside specialists to come in and handle a tricky situation. This tree represented no such problem. He dropped it efficiently and our Lloyd moved in to do the clean-up. Any branches too thick to be fed through the mulcher were sawn into short lengths and moved to the firewood shed. We get through prodigious amounts of firewood in winter, all of it harvested off the property. The leafage and small branches were mulched on the spot.
It was, as we say in New Zealand parlance, gone by lunchtime. Literally so, in this case.
I am not sure how people manage big gardens when they can’t do their own basic chainsaw work and manage the clean-up. Expensively, I guess.