Cutting Down 112 Years of Tree History in One Day

It began in the clear crispness of a May morning.

First to arrive was the cherry picker truck that would lift man and chainsaw into the leafy branches.

Then came the chipper that would grind leaves, twigs and branches into a pile of mulch.

There was a slight pause as we all looked up at the regal copper beech, shielding our eyes from the sharp morning sun, a last moment of homage to a tree who had served well beyond her years. She remained strikingly beautiful to the end.

The motor of the cherry picker arm whined as it lifted man and saw into the branches.

The chainsaw motor started growling.

Small branches began to fall, as if testing the ground for the later arrival of the bigger pieces.

Three hours of trimming small branches, then bigger limbs thunked into the ground with the sickening sound of finality.

A piece would fall, sending vibrations through the ground as the “thunk” sounded across the neighborhood, combined with an occasional “clunk” when one piece would land on another.

Each time a piece fell, I flinched with pain as it landed. Yet, I could not leave. As the tree’s guardian and caretaker, it was my duty to be near the 112-year-old copper beech as she was felled.

Old and sick and tired, yet she was still so beautiful that her destruction caused a deep shock and mourning for those driving by. Many had mouths hanging open, shock in their eyes.

At one point, the cable that connected the double trunks was snapped by a falling branch. Both trunks waved in the air, one threatening to fall on the house, the other to fall toward the street.

As the trunks swayed, it felt as though the world stopped, we all held our breath and waited. Then the trunks stilled, and the cutting continued.

The problem with cutting down a tree, believing it to be rotted, is that you don’t really know until it is too late if you are right or wrong.

As the tree was felled and the wood looked so solid, doubt began to sink in.

Then the section of the trunk that had been the first indicator of rot was slowly lowered into the truck, nestled into place, count to three…and the piece shattered.

It was then we all knew how close we had come to disaster.

With the final cut, there was doubt no more. The trunk at ground level had a large area so rotted that it looked like someone had filled the center of the tree with chocolate pudding, as if it were some kind of demented dessert.

The tree cutting crew said that what would have happened is the rotted area of the trunk would have split it in half, causing it to fall in two different directions, leaving the second of the twin trunks to fall toward the house. There was little to nothing structural holding up the immense 85-foot-tall tree.

It took 112 years to grow, but only six hours to cut down, chip and haul the tree away. Six hours and it was over. It seems like it should have taken longer out of respect for nature’s work.

It is time for change, a time for a new tree, a new look, and perhaps a change in life’s path from a long stretch of unemployment to success.

We are looking forward to the tomorrows to come and to finding the tree who will earn the honor of taking the place of our beloved copper beech tree.