There have been some workmen digging up the pavement in the neighbourhood for two weeks now. These people suddenly turned up because there has been a problem with a leaking pipe which has caused somebody’s driveway to subside. So far, they have managed to excavate the pavement and part of the next door neighbour’s garden. And tomorrow they are going to demolish the tree at the bottom of our garden because it is in their way.
I did not know before today that the tree was first planted in 1969; and neither did I care much about it until an elderly man who also lives in the neighbourhood came to talk to the person with whom I have been living about some insignificant thing. And he informed us about the tree’s history. I did not feel especially sad that we were going to lose it tomorrow for eternity; quite the opposite, I felt a bit relieved that we were never going to have to undertake our annual pruning routine again. At the same time, when I knew this afternoon that it was going to be cut down for good, I felt that the tree deserved some mention in my blog. It has been there for so long, it has grown up with a number of families that have lived in this house before us. I was not even born when it was put into the soil. When I first came to the UK to have my life here, it was already there. If it could speak there would be so many stories to tell about the neighbourhood and its people. Tomorrow morning, if I can be bothered to get up early, I might pay my respects to it for the last time, before it is massacred by those workmen from the water company. Though, I must remember that it is only a tree.