I went out to the farm (my veggie garden) a couple of days ago and noticed that something seemed amiss. For one thing, the wheelbarrow was lying face down on top of the cold frame lid. Hmmm. Puzzling.
Wind? I'd been out of town so maybe Walu had come out here in a windstorm, found the lid flapping around and put the barrow on top to hold it down. I dismissed this idea almost as soon as I thought of it--not because we don't have winds strong enough to do that (we do), but because it is simply unimaginable that W would a) go outside in a windstorm for recreation, b) notice the cold frame lid flapping around, and c) think to put a wheelbarrow on top of it.
I love Walu, but he's a rather bookish man, if you get my drift.
Then I noticed that the galvanized trash was in the wrong place. In fact, it was on the opposite end of the farm, and it was standing upright, so I knew for a fact it couldn't have been wind that moved it.
And there were pecans on the ground--everywhere. And little branches. It was almost as if someone had taken a good shake to the tree and...
Aha! I remembered a little notice I'd gotten on my door the week before, announcing that the city was going to prune my pecan trees in the alley. Fair enough, since they need to do this to protect the electric lines that run there, but I've seen what they do to trees they "prune." It's less a pruning than a butchering.
I wasn't too concerned, though, since I'd been planning to have someone come out and prune those trees anyway. I need more light in the veggie garden. I just figured my guy could clean up the city butchering when it was done.
Even so, I raised my eyes tentatively to the big pecan...
And couldn't really see much that was different. Maybe a nip and tuck, here and there...
So I look over at the smaller one at the other end of the yard:
Okay, that's not so bad, really. It even looks like an elegant cut, right at the junction. It's one I might make myself, in fact.
But then I saw my neighbor's trees:
So why would the city tree butchers prune mine so delicately and then turn around and do their usual whack job at the next house? And why would they take pains to move things like the wheelbarrow and trash can out of the way of danger from falling branches? The only thing I can figure is that when they climbed over into my yard, they saw that a gardener lived there. And it is equally clear that gardeners do not live next door.
It would be tempting to think that they did it out of respect for a gardener, but I'm guessing that they just figured I'd be more likely to complain about brutalizing my trees than a non-gardener. And normally, they might be right, but for the fact I'd planned to tidy up their usual shoddy work anyway.
And here's a little more irony: You remember the respectful way they neatly place the wheelbarrow on top of the cold frame lid? They broke the lid when they did it.
Good thing I'm handy and was able to fix it.