For decades before 8004 was built and before I lived there, the neighbor’s walnut tree has been part of my visual landscape. It doesn’t show up a lot in photos, because I’m usually standing on the back porch looking at the point in the backyard, but you can see the edge of it in this post about Matt’s pandemic haircut.
It’s been changed over the years. The owners of the motel next door didn’t like a branch hanging over their roof, so that branch was removed. But it’s been a pleasant visual companion and has fed generations of squirrels with the walnuts it produces.
“I heard a very loud noise the other morning,” Matt said one day. He couldn’t identify what it was. A few days later, I went outside and noticed a very large branch had fallen off the tree and was covering most of the back yard where the tree lives. That probably solved the loud noise mystery.
Today, I realized I’d been hearing chainsaws for some time and got up from my desk to investigate. I was horrified to see the walnut tree as only a stump, and caught this picture about five minutes before I heard the loud “thunk” of the trunk coming down.
I’m not one to be sentimental over trees. I celebrated when the huge oak in my mom’s back yard laid itself down in an ice storm. But this had been such a big part of my life at the Orange Door, both indoors and out. It provided a nice green blotch on the southeast part of the property, and I’ve watched from my desk as squirrels run from the fir tree in Leo’s yard along the fence to the walnut tree and back.
What are all those squirrels going to eat now that their walnut source is gone?