This (though this view is from a different angle) was the view from our kitchen window on Saturday. We need some work done on the house foundation, which meant a little bit of cutting, and pruning was needed.
Instead of just clearing out just what was needed, we also cleared out the volunteer privet, a source of tension between us and the neighbor. We've had an ongoing battle of the wits with our neighbor about the area, the trees and the "messy" hedge. They prefer
topped trees and open lawn, we prefer figs to eat and
oxygen to breathe.
By 2 PM Sunday, the street was lined with privet and fig debris. The pine branches are from a 3-day, 3 40 year old tree-toppling spree performed by professionals. I won't go into why those trees came down, except to say they were too tall for a certain person's taste.
The view from the kitchen window now looks out into Blandsville, a stark reminder of our suburban lifestyle.
Are you noting the tinge of sadness (and depth of bitterness) as I write this? It's kind of a shock to me, the difference. I take comfort in the privacy the trees offered and the bareness of the space has left me feeling quite bare. Soon enough we'll fill the space with more appropriate plants, but in the meantime it feels quite like an open wound.
