It started with a Globe Willow


Over 20 years ago we saw 3 beautiful trees in someone's yard across town. We inquired, then ordered a Globe Willow for our back yard. As the years have passed its beauty was well known around our neighborhood.

But, for every one thing lovely about the willow, there was something that wasn't. It was the first green in the springtime, but spewed out a cottonwood-like down that floated through the air, tickled our noses, and clogged our neighbors pool. The tree reached for the sky quickly and spread its globe over the house for a cooling umbrella, but its structure was weak and half of the new growth would fall to the ground in a mess with the slightest breeze. We had the last green of fall, but the leaves forever clogged the gutters and kept us raking past the first snow. Birds were delighted, as were we with the shade for our patio and hammock, but a sticky sap would mist us whenever because of its constant battle with parasites.

Last spring a crazy wind storm from the north toppled two of its big branches to reveal a rotten center. My husband said "Parasites. Gotta come down."

How can you ruthlessly chop down the tree that grew up with your kids and is loved not only by you and the birds, but by your grandkids as well?

He compromised - he wouldn't topple it until the end of winter.

March brought the chain saw and my grief. (His friend Mike came over to help him; they looked just like lumberjacks.)

March also brought some toilet problems. As the limbs began to topple, the toilets resisted the flush. As more of the tree disappeared, the drainage became more churlish. I was running the washing machine the day the main trunk was felled. Within a few moments the septic tank bubbled up with a "bloop, bloop, bloop" into the flower bed adjacent the house.

Little did we know those many years ago that we had planted that willow smack dab in the middle of our septic drain. (What backyard diagram had we been given?) The decades of roots, never having to grow very deep, had been slurping up all the waste water and keeping us not only in the shade, but in the dark as well.

Comments

Karmyn R said…
Oh Alas Poor Willow - I knew you well....good story!
Robin said…
Hmmm, this sounds like it could have some kind of great spiritual application, don't you think? Looks good on the surface, but rotten on the inside...Welcome to the blogosphere :)
Walker said…
Yup. Been there on the problems with the drain field and tree roots. But, I do feel for the willow.
Anonymous said…
globe willows only live about 6 years. thats a old one,




Ivy

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