End of an Era

Our big ash trees in the front yard need to come out. Apparently, the big freeze we had in February was too much for them. Experts we consulted were unanimous in saying they are not worth trying to save. They said that if they were going to come back from the freeze they would have done it by now. So, on August 16, a tree guy will be coming to remove them.

They do have some clumps of leaves growing directly out of a few of the larger branches and trunks. But it's not normal or healthy growth. 

The large patch of shade in the foreground is from our next door neighbor's oak tree. So we won't be completely without shade in the front yard.

It’s hard to imagine the house without them. They’ve been here longer than we have. They were already fairly large when my husband, John, bought the house in ’91. (That was before we met.)

We don’t know for sure when they were planted. Our next-door neighbor said they were not planted when the house was built in '76. She said the builder planted maple trees at all the houses along here. Very strange since maples don’t do well in this area. Not surprisingly her maple tree died within a few years. In fact, none of the original maple trees are still around. It seems likely that the maple tree that was at this house met the same fate and that these ash trees were planted a few years after this house was built. That would make them a little over 40 years old.

One tree guy said that ash trees’ average life span is 50 years. But I’ve found articles that say they can live few hundred years. At least if the emerald ash borer (EAB) doesn’t attack them. After that they usually die within five years. The EAB is an invasive pest from China that has been wreaking havoc on ash trees in the US for a few decades. I don’t know if they are in this area yet. I haven’t seen any evidence that they are on our trees. 

We were told that our trees were likely stressed out due to improper pruning. They were also probably stressed by some bad droughts several years ago. And then the big freeze in February.

We have mixed feelings about losing them. They are really too big for the space and too close to the house. But we will miss their shade especially during our hot summers.

I used to feel frustrated that we had so much shade. I had dreams of creating a lovely landscape with lots of pretty plants and flowers. All the plants I liked, though, needed full sun. Eventually, I let go of my landscaping fantasies and chose to be thankful for what we had: two big trees and lots of shade. I did make some attempts to create shade compatible landscaping but for various reasons none of those attempts were very successful. Now, ironically, I just want a simple landscape--preferably created by someone else! 

John also has mixed feelings. He loves big trees and he never shared my landscaping ambitions--his preference is to never change anything. But he wants to put solar panels on the roof so I think he's glad we will have less shade.    

Despite our mixed feelings it feels like the end of an era. 

No more mountains of leaves to rake each fall.  

No more sitting outside in the shade and watching the neighbors go by--not that we did that very often. One of my fantasies is to live in a house with a porch where we can sit and wave to the neighbors as they walk past, and maybe even talk to them if they have the time to stop and chat. But hardly anyone ever walks. They just speed past in their cars--windows tinted too dark to even see who it is to wave to. 

And what will I tell people when they want to find our house? "It's the brown brick house where there used to be two big trees," probably won't help much. 

Here's a look back (not in chronological order).

Photo from the real-estate flier when John bought the house in 1991. 

 

February '96
Another memorable February snow storm just after we were married.
It was one of those fun snow storms that we rarely get here in Dallas: a few inches of pretty snow and not much ice. Snow storms here are usually mostly ice and driving can be dangerous. People don't go to work if they can help it. I remember we celebrated by making yummy pancakes for breakfast using a special pancake mix and syrups from a gift basket that a friend sent for our wedding. Then we went for a walk and took lots of photos.

The February storm this year was much different! Some people dubbed it the "Snowpocolypse." It was one of the worst winter storms Dallas has ever had. It was really more of a series of snow storms and deep freezes that lasted a week. Many people lost power. Lots of havoc and suffering ensued. We thought we didn't have any damage and even felt a little guilty about that. But apparently we didn't get off as easy as we thought.

The photos I took were taken through the windows from indoors. I didn't want to risk a fall on the ice. And the extreme cold, extreme for us anyway, was not something I wanted to be out in. I think I did go out later in the week but I don't think I took any photos. Maybe John did. I don't remember.

Wednesday, February 17, 2021 at 11:41 a.m. Three days into the big storm. Not much of the trees showing from the window but their trunks. I think it was snowing in this photo. The foot prints in the foreground are likely John's. He does not like to be cooped up for long!

Saturday, February 20th at 8:39 a.m.
You can see from the foot prints that other critters were out sometimes too. This is looking at the other tree from my office window. Notice the sheen of ice on top of the snow--another reason I was not out on it. (the leafy branches that look like they are coming out of our tree are actually the neighbor's live oak tree across the street.)

In '97, a couple of years after we were married. By this time we had gotten the trees pruned a little. We also removed the shrubs in front to let more light into the house and help keep bugs out.

This is from a Google photo I found on-line from several years ago. You can see my neighbor's oak tree at the top right. Our tree in the middle of the photo has been cut back a lot over the years because it was encroaching on the neighbor's oak too much.    

October 2019. Having tree work to cut them away from the roof.

A winter sunset a few years ago.