I think that I shall never see

...a poem lovely as a tree, wrote poet Joyce Kilmer in 1913. His poem became very popular and soon schoolchildren all over America were reciting its 12 lines ending with "Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree". A few years later, humorist Ogden Nash wrote, "I think that I shall never see a billboard lovely as a tree. Perhaps, unless the billboards fall, I'll never see a tree at all." But I digress.

Atlanta is known far and wide as "a city in a forest". North Georgia had lots of trees until the inexorable advance of civilization removed them to make way for things it deemed more important like multi-lane highways, busy industrial parks, and vast residential subdivisions.

In my neighborhood, however, the opposite occurred. I think of it as Nature's Revenge. After our subdivision was built, the only trees to be seen were single hardwood trees planted in each front yard. One neightbor had a red maple, we had a silver maple, and the neighbor on the other side had a Bradford pear. To my eyes it looked rather devoid of vegetation. Then Mother Nature took over, and on the bare hills behind us to the east and north, trees began to grow of their own accord. Over the past 18 years, without human help, scrub pine trees started their own self-instigated reforestation project, so much so that during the past couple of years, Mrs. RWP and I began to fear that our neighbor's trees might come crashing down on our bedroom in a strong wind or that large, ice-covered branches would damage our roof during an ice storm. Though the trees did afford some privacy, the reality is that they were dangerous to live around.

In the last week of January, that all changed. Our neighbor hired Dave's Tree Service of Talking Rock, Georgia, who came equipped with a big red machine and a big yellow machine and a big noisy wood chipper. In three days time they removed more than 20 trees from our neighbor's back yard (British, garden). The result is not as private as before, but we feel a lot safer when we lay our heads on our pillows each night.

Here are some before, during, and after pictures. My stupid computer (translation: the dummkopf at the keyboard) is not able to rotate some of the photographs, so you will just have to turn your head sideways. You might even try standing on your head. I'm sorry, but it simply can't be helped. It apparently takes a better man than I am, Gunga Din.

The really amazing thing is that three days after the trees were cleared out, our Homeowners Association picked our yard as yard of the month for February (I bloggged about it earlier). My theory is that they could finally see my house as they drove up the street because they were no longer distracted/blinded by all the greenery.

Until next time, I remain....

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P.S. -- You may be scratching your head at this point about the paragraph preceding the photographs in which I mentioned dummkopfs and better men than I am, Gunga Din. I found such a man, or rather he stepped up to the plate voluntarily and sent me copies of my photographs all going in the right direction, and I have now replaced the askew pictures with his kind gifts. Many thanks, and I mean that sincerely, to blogger Adrian Ward of Auchtermuchty, Scotland, for rescuing me from my dilemma. If I were independently wealthy I would send money to him, but since I'm not. I won't.