My house was built in 1896. On the site of an old cherry orchard. One of the original trees was still standing and producing fruit until 20 years ago. It had grown huge and was tearing into the foundation and side wall of my carriagehouse. I pondered and pondered. Ancient tree or ancient structure? The structure won. I rented a chain saw, put on a really outdoorsey and masculine t-shirt and brought the cherry tree down. Under the heart of the tree, I found a silver (real silver) spoon. An elderly neighbor (more elderly than I anyway) explained that in the old days, when a child was born around here, a tree would be planted for them with something of value placed beneath the root ball. I lamented choosing the building over the tree then.
But wait. There is more! Not having compleated the removal of the entire root system of the tree, I discovered a volunteer cherry tree shoot two years ago. The shoot was far enough from my carriage house to not cause alarm during my anticipated lifetime, so I let it thrive and grow.
And grow it did! Two years now, the volunteer is over ten feet tall and had the most beautiful blossoms this last spring. It even bore fruit. The original orchard tree is prospering into its third century. Untended. But protected. hmmmmm. Oh yeh. The elderly neighbor? Dead. Oh yeh number two. The rental place took one look at me and refused to rent me a gas powered chain saw. I had to do the job with a playskool electric saw.
