Begin forwarded message:
From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>Subject: Trees cut power June 2019Date: June 25, 2019 at 3:19:33 PM EDT
“WHAT LOVELY TREES!” … “THERE IS A PRICE TO PAY.”
alan sketch
June 2019
“WHAM! SSSST>>>SSSST”
“What was that…something through the trees…shower of sparks…then silence”
I was just sitting on the pave stone front porch reading The Bishop’s Boy by Lindon Macintyre when
the BAM and SSSSST happened. We live in a forest…southern Mississauga where once the native
peoples lived. A big green space so obvious from the air. Huge trees that overhand and hide the houses.
Trees that suck in the carbon and push out put oxygen. A kind of Shangri-La. Were it not for the astronomic
taxes. There is a price to pay for green space.
“Power is gone…tree fell across the power lines…must be hanging there after severing
the main line. Hung up. Dead birch. Big one and others ready to fall.”
Neighbours began to assemble…comments both comforting and angry. Some
knew the cost of keeping all these trees. When we bought our lot there were 114
trees and shrubs…counted them to justify the mortgage. House cost $28,000. Did not think about the cost
should one tree die. Now, after half a century living here, we know that cost. Cutting
down a dead tree costs $1,000 and upwards. Green space costs money. Some neighbours
know that. Some fear that. Some curse that and try to surreptitiously cut down trees.
Most of us love the trees … consider the costs just part of doing business.
Climate change! Yow…will it affect our trees? That mean our oxygen. Not only losing
insects, little creatures, fish and bumblebees but also could we lose our trees as the
planet heats up. Got to do something but what? Try to save the trees, I guess is
a small step. “But the trees give shelter to that pack of coyotes…they slip around
looking for cats and little dogs…are the coyotes part of the ecology of our neighbourhood?
If the trees go, then so go lots of things…maybe even ourselves.”
“Call 911…must be a live power line in the branches…dangerous…lethal.”
“Get a police car here.”
“the 911operator made me wait nearly 10 minutes…so many panic calls for all
kinds of reasons. Wonder how high up the crisis ladder is a dead tree?”
“Then the big emergency trucks began assemble. Huge dinosaurs of the 21s century.
Neighbours and dogs admired and commiserated…”The owners of the dead
birch doesn’t even know what has a happened. Too dangerous to go down their
lane. Are they well? Some think not.”
“Men no longer climb threes…they have long articulated buckets that reach higher
than any tree…huge things.
“Hubert, how much does one of those trucks cost?”
“Between 250,000 and 500,000 dollars.”
“Hydro rates are high…going higher and higher with each truck.”
“Why do we need two trucks? “
“Something could go wrong I guess.”
“No power for blocks and blocks…”
“Interferes with the BlueJay game…can you get it fixed fast?”
“It will take six hours or more.”
Reminds me of two praying mantis creatures sparring for food.
“Somewhat larger though.”
Then the next day new trucks arrived…tree specials.
“How much is that truck worth?”
“$180,000”
“Trees cost big money when they die…going higher and higher.”
“Is it necessary to slice up all those healthy trees…like that beautiful oak
that is only aquaria century old.”
“It will grow back…got to clear the power lines….Trees on city land do not need
permission to slice up.”
“What about my oxygen supply?”
“Oxygen? Are you daft?”
Then something odd happened. One whole house came down the street
on a huge flatbed truck. A whole house…about 70 feet long…wood from
someone’s forest has been butchered. Now dead.
“Ripping down a house on the next street…chomping it up with an excavator…
then building a new house. Happends all the time around here. Makes no
sense.
Cowboys riding high…”Yippee Yay Ay, Yi Ay”
“Do not worry, the trees will grow back…I guarantee you that.”
“Hope you are right. Reminds me of something I read long ago and
would earnestly like to believe. ‘WE CAN BUT HOPE THAT SOMEHOW GOOD WILL
BE THE FINAL GOAL OF ILL.”
Sent from my iPhone
