Saturday, September 15, 2007


It's no secret that I love trees. Never climbed them much but I admire their beauty and diversity. And their shade...especially in the south.

I've always joked we bought this tree and our house came with it. Our house is a 124 year old farm house. The neighbor next door told me of swinging from her branches, claiming the tree's been this big since he can remember...and he's 75. Contrary to popular belief [or first glance] it's not an's a pecan tree. Sometimes I wish she could talk, tell me who sat beneath her branches or walked past on their journey. There are a whole lot of generations who've enjoyed her company thus far.

Pecan trees tend to bear heavily one year, then take a break the next. Two years ago we had a wicked ice storm and Mother Nature did one cold job of pruning my girl out front. Looked like someone had dropped a bomb in the top of the tree it was so splintered. The fall after she was "broken" by Ma Nature was her off year and over the past two years, she's healed. At least aesthetically. This year we were amazed how many pecans were forming. But take this summer's drought [in spite of our watering her], the weight of the pecans, weakened limbs from that ice storm, add thunder, lightning and torrential rain...and you get a recipe for disaster.

Our 105 lb. chocolate lab Boudreaux is sitting in front of the tree to give you a sense of scale. Plus he couldn't figure out why there was a stick that big lying across the driveway. It happened the night before during a moderate thunderstorm. The sound had been listening to someone rip apart wood with the strength of Sampson and then the SWOOSH! as the whole thing came tumbling down. We actually felt the "thump" inside the house.

But our gal's tough. In fact the limb didn't total snap off. If you follow the limb up toward the right hand side of the picture, it's still hanging on by a thread. Well, until this morning.

Our neighbor has a tree service and his crew was out front, trying to decide how to tackle our tree. The picture doesn't do the sheer size of the job justice. I'd heard chainsaws and grimaced. I felt this huge THUMP and shook my head, imagining they'd gotten to the point of surgically severing limb from it's main body. As the men walked back and forth, gathering limbs, I walked on the porch to see my husband shaking his head. At first I thought it was because he was viewing this through male eyes: "Wow! We sure lost a lot of pecans. But what a mess. Glad I didn't have to clean it up." My view was more along the lines of "My poor tree!"

Hubby turned toward me and said, "They were standing there talking, trying to figure out how to tackle where the limb was still attached. One of the guys walked under the limb and as soon as he cleared it, the thing came crashing down! You probably felt it all the way in the house!"

That tree has seen a lot in her years. It'll take more than a guy with a chainsaw and a plan to get the best of her.

1 comment:

Bonnie said...

Did you put some aloe on the wound to let her know she is loved even though broken? I hope she wasn't in too much pain. The poor thing. She will heal and prevail and bring more pecans and memories for future generations.