As some of you may know, I live in the house I grew up in. It’s not easy buying a home in the Santa Barbara area on two teachers’ salaries, so my husband and I were indeed fortunate to be able to purchase my childhood home from my mother (who came along with the deal.)
Last summer, after five years of a long California drought the liquidambar tree that grew in our parkway began looking a bit sad and spindly. One Sunday afternoon in July, a huge branch suddenly broke off and landed on the hood of my husband’s car. A couple of weeks later, after having insisted that the tree had been properly maintained, therefore denying our damage claim, the city arborist came out and decided the tree was pretty much dead. Next thing I knew, a crew of men in orange hats showed up and within a span of several hours cut it down, chipped it up and left me with a bare strip of dirt in front of my house.
I ranted and raved and then I cried. After spending my own childhood with that beautiful tree and then raising my four kids under its boughs, I really thought life would never be the same again.
Time passed, and life did indeed go on without the tree. Fall arrived and that there were no dead leaves or spiny seed pods to clean up was definitely a benefit. The rain came and without the tree roots, the soil became fertile again. I was immediately drawn to the potential of all that dirt. I got down on my hands and knees and planted.
Life is full of change and trade offs. Sure, the birds build their nests in the neighbors trees and I have a little less shade in my life, but now I get to watch a daily performance of bees and butterflies as they flit in and around my newest flower bed. Not to mention the perfectly unobstructed view of the mountains.
Change is good.
Allegro non tanto 
Thatta-girl! But I am sorry for your loss. Trees…the deepest souls of the earth.
California and your green thumb have created a paradise!
When the street we live on was completely repaved, I was so happy our liquid amber tree was not taken down. Then, a year later it died. I called the city, they said it may come back. It looked dead. I called a year latter. No they said, wait. Another year, a huge branch broke off-perhaps 20 or 30 feet long. I called, told them about the branch, and this time they came within 30 minutes and by the end of the day, the tree was gone. Why was mine the only one in the neighborhood to die? I will always miss it.
Wow! The flower bed is BEAUTIFUL! Love ya, sis.
I don’t necessarily get quite these flowers in my yard .. . but it is indeed in a state of flux, and today I got a visit from a hummingbird. There’s a gorgeous oak I’ve photographed over the years and I rue the day when it has to go (sooner than later, I fear) but this summer especially has brought a whole new (long awaited) landscape — with all the underlying metaphor. Promise to send a photo or two 🙂
Saw the beautiful photo of the hummingbird on instagram! What a great shot!