Tree Mystery Solved!

I have joked with people that the soundtrack to the pandemic lockdown has been the symphony of chainsaws. Hark! It's Sunday morning and what do I hear? And this morning two pine trees across the street are being cut down by professionals. When I got up to check out the scene right now, I noticed two more dead trees on the next street over ready to go.

I love my street. Before we lived here we used to drive around up here back in the day and wonder about the story of the neighborhood. I really loved the wooded feel of it, and how the fog would slip around the giant pine trees at night, break off in pieces and drift off. Well the fog is still here, honey, but the trees have met their maker.

I used to hear about the trees at our neighborhood Christmas party, hosted by our neighbor next door. He resents the trees, which he talks about at every party, even though he has always had a stupendous view. He has mentioned some guy around here who planted them all.

At our block party a few weeks ago I met a longtime resident who had the full story. This part of town was grassland until the 1950s. His house was built in the 50s, and our the houses on our street were built in the 70s. Somewhere in there, when there were few trees and a lot of brown hills to look at, a guy bought hundreds of Monterey Pine saplings for 15c apiece, and sold them to the neighbors. People eagerly bought them up because their new houses sat on naked lots. The tree-seller guy planted the trees on a tiny tongue of city land, as well, that sits between our houses at the top of the hill and the ones on the street below us. Over time, grassland became woodland of sorts.

Turns out that Monterey pines have a lifespan of about 50 years. Thanks, Dude! Had the guy bought redwoods, they would be alive 1000 years from now, but in our particular scenario the trees started falling down about five years ago. One fell on a neighbor's house during a rainstorm. And then they all started turning brown. We had favorites behind our house that the crows and hawks would fight over at twilight. They gradually turned brown and the woodpeckers came and then the chainsaws. Now we have a kick ass view, but we miss the trees. None of the pines are on our property, somehow.

So on this day when I'm home and don't have to see my mom (thanks, big sis!) I get to hear the chainsaws. Must be a sign that I should get moving and do something besides sit here and play with my computer.

Let the day begin.