An Opening for the Sun's Full Gaze

It seems like a simple thing; and we did, after all, initiate it.  Nevertheless I don't take it lightly.

When we settled on the location for the greenhouse shortly after moving in, we recognized the problem posed by one particular tree.  At the very least it would shade the sunlight from an afternoon sun; potentially it could prove to be a hazard to both the barn and the more delicate covering of the greenhouse.  All that, and it wasn't particularly appealing.  Others agreed, suggesting that we arrange to take it down.  We made some inquiries, a tree service came by to survey the situation, and we came to some agreement.  In addition they would trim back a tree on the other side that was drooping over the barn roof.

And then we waited.  The removal apparently wasn't any big issue; it was the trimming that stalled the work.  We would have to wait for freezes to eliminate the parasite attracted to an oak tree's open wounds.  As it turned out, "waiting for a freeze" in this climatically challenged winter presented more of a challenge than the parasites. 

Today, just to make the point, it will hit 60-degrees. 

On January 30. 

In Iowa.

Apparently, however, the mercury has dropped sufficiently in preceding weeks to eliminate the risk and at 7:45 a.m. the big truck turned into the driveway.  By 11 a.m. they were gone -- one tree trimmed, another tree removed, the branches chipped and the sawdust raked away.  After another crew makes certain there are no buried wires or pipes nearby, the stump itself will be removed.  Erased like an errant mark on a theme paper. 

But as I say, I don't take such an action lightly.  It was, for however many years it has been stretching to its offending size, it has been a living thing -- a part of nature.  Whether it emerged volunteer or was selected and lovingly planted by those who paused here before I cannot say.  I only know it took root and gave rise to trunk and branch and ultimately fruit.  It was, the tree specialist told me, an Osage Orange tree (which, in a fete of fruitful confusion, produces what is inexplicably called a "hedge apple").  We have others -- at least for the moment.  I am sure we have yet more tree considerations to undertake. 

For the moment, however, the newly formed clearing brandishes this wound.  I have looked forward to making our mark on this habitable place; I'm not sure how I feel about that first mark being this one. 

As the days begin to lengthen and it drinks in the sun's fuller gaze, the greenhouse will no doubt be grateful that this day finally came.  There is always, I suppose, an argument between sunlight and shade.