For some time now, the kids who go to and from the elementary school behind our house have been enamoured of the little tree tunnel created when we had our fence put in a few years ago. The original owners had planted a line of spruce trees beside a fence, but over time the fence collapsed and the trees grew over the original fence line.
Before the new fence was installed, I trimmed the branches from the line of spruce closest to the house so the trunks would be flush for the fence. Once it was up, a perfect tunnel appeared between the fence and the trees, and it is now a kid part of the way to school. No kid can resist it.
Which my mom and I think is adorable. But not quite so charming are the kids who bounce against the fence at the entrance to the tree tunnel. Over time this has bent the top bar and ripped the chain link from the bar. Not only that, an intrepid girl has decided that she adores climbing the towering Scotch pine in our yard, which you can see in the picture.
So today my uncle came over and removed the bottom layer of branches from the huge pine, as well as took down the scraggly fir at the beginning of the tunnel, which the girl used as steps to get up to the fence and then into the pine. This opens that area to a bit more sun, because I'll be planting a cutting from the monster rose bush at the foot of that section of fence. No more bouncey-bouncey, because those rose thorns are vicious from that particular rambler.
Meanwhile, for my first official day in the garden this spring, my agoraphobic husband came out in the yard with me and we wired the chain link back to the top bar. It even snowed tiny pellets on us at one point, but we didn't care. Brad was a total trooper. Believe me, he was having lots of anxiety out there in the fresh air. But he knew I could use the muscle to pull the heavy-gauge wire taut, and it's sexy to show off for your honey.
So, for today's Poetry Train, I give you this American sentence:
Misshapen tree sacrificed so that girl can't reach her sylvan goddess.
For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!
Stan Ski says Climing trees is part of growing up. I'm sure she'll think of a way to get up there.
Nikita Banerjee say Oh no! I would have loved to do something like the little girl!
Akelamalu says You have to be so careful here these days - some kid climbs your fence or tree and hurts themself then they sue you! :0
Climing trees is part of growing up. I'm sure she'll think of a way to get up there.
ReplyDeleteOh no! I would have loved to do something like the little girl! And lucky you! You have such a cool garden!
ReplyDeleteStan and Nikita - Since the tree is on our property, if she plummeted three stories into our yard, we would be liable. So we're steering her towards any other tree she might love to climb, as my mom has watched her climb the ones in the greenbelt behind our house and which is in the public domain.
ReplyDeleteYou have to be so careful here these days - some kid climbs your fence or tree and hurts themself then they sue you! :0
ReplyDeleteI'd have done the same when I was her age. I had a favorite climbing tree at the state park in NY where we used to camp. A little fir. Memories~
ReplyDeletePhew, if there are no branches, what you need are some old cold chisels and a big lump hammer, start at the bottom and work your way up the tree, leaving foot and hand holds for future adventures. Then again if you own the tree and don't want anybody climbing up it you could always paint the bottom ten feet with non-drying vandal paint.
ReplyDeleteNice sentence, by the way!
I used to climb trees all the time!
ReplyDeletebirthday swan song
I have fond memories of a huge tree house in my friend's back yard. We lived next door to each other when I was about 10. I could climb my back fence and be in the tree house.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the memory!