Requiem for a Tree

It has been over two years since I told you about the ash tree in front of our house. Eventually it was marked with the yellow spot of doom and we have made several calls to the city arborist (that’s the tree guy, but in Grosse Pointe we call him the arborist) to inquire about the patient’s fate. Last week when the weather turned warm along came a crew. They were obviously the branch experts and when they had removed the limbs, they departed. A few days later the trunk and stump guys arrived, and we now have a hole where once stood our valiant ash.

Look at the poor old thing. Knobby and gnarled, listing and bent, gamely awaiting nature’s next onslaught.

Er, the tree.