When we moved into our present home in Benicia 20 years ago; we thought we would be here for about 7 years. There was absolutely no landscaping in either the front or back of the house, so we got a very competent MG to help us with a 7 year design. I wasn't really paying any attention to the growth implications of the trees we were putting in, figuring we would not be here long enough to worry about it.

We overstayed our horticultural welcome – as far as the trees are concerned. In particular, we had a beautiful Silk Tree (Albizia julibrissin) that went from a five gallon pot to a healthy forty foot specimen, and equally wonderful Arbutus menziesii that also took off and got to about 30 feet. I guess the good news is that I had initially put in 2 Arbutuses in the same space but when they were about 2 years old they were beginning to look like they were going to get out of hand so I cut down one. The remaining one grew very fast and rained berries and leaves on our windy property on a regular basis.

Both of these trees, along with being very large, had a problem with manners. The Arbutus, as I mentioned, was much too generous with its berries and leaves in a windward area that was leaving our deck covered with berries and leaves constantly. Because of the wind, in only hours after cleaning it off, the deck was completely blanketed again. In some attempt to compensate, the tree was very attractive to hummingbirds. So during the brief windless periods, it was fun to see the tree come alive with humming-commotion. The Silk Tree was just as unmannerly in its own way. It dropped its seed pods and leaves – it is deciduous – in a rather large circle turning our ground cover and our neighbors' property completely tan with seed pods, and under its marvelous canopy covering our cars with seed pods also. As the trees got larger and larger, I wasn't noticing that they took quite a bit of upkeep.

But their worst impoliteness was with our uphill neighbors. They went from having a wonderful view of the Carquinez Straits and both bridges to seeing tree canopies up close – and nothing else. Mind you, this wasn't a bad sight, but it wasn't what they wanted out of this location. They never really complained, but did invite us to come over and share their view. We did and we could immediately see the problem. So, what to do! We loved the trees but felt some obligation to the people in our lives.

We consulted with arborists who gave us a picture of what the trees would look like trimmed. There were two other trees implicated in the view takeover, but they could be relatively easily be trimmed. But the Silk Tree and the Arbutus had to be taken out; they just couldn't be taught manners and their good looks would be spoiled too much by the trimming. After considerable agonizing, down they had to come.

There is more to this saga. But at this point, I have asked myself what the take-away has been for me thus far. For one thing, I really have to be mindful of what I am putting in the ground; what is the endgame. Beauty of the plants as objects is just not enough. I have to be considering the impact on the larger environment – both landscape and social context. In a city-scape, it takes a village to have trees grow and prosper and be loved.   Three, it is remarkable just how fast a large tree can be cut down and what a big gap it leaves both visually and spiritually. I have been looking inside myself for what kind of lemonade I can make with these lemons. In my next blog, I'll get into that. This piece is a diary about naiveté, and disappointment and new learning.