Ironies I

There's a tree in our front yard. It's an annoying tree. Our British neighbor calls it a yew, but we call it an evergreen. We tell the cab drivers to stop there, by the tree, because ours is the only house with a large, Christmasy tree in our little front yard.

How old is the tree? We don't know. A 1940/WPA project photo of our house doesn't show the tree. But, back in the mid '80s when I first moved into the area, the tree was here.

About 10 years ago, we had an arborist shape the tree and neighbors stopped by to say what a nice job, etc. Let's just say, it's a beloved, neighborhood tree.

The irony is: I really hate the tree. The roots are so deep that we can't really plant anything else in the little plot of land we have. Also, the yew/evergreen drops tiny green spikes that make the soil acidic and nearly everything dies that we plant there. The shade from the tree further limits the possible plantings, etc., etc.

Some hydrangea took root, but this year, they only developed leaves, save for one lovely flower.

Finally, and this really is an irony, we're one of a few families on the block that don't celebrate Christmas, and we're the guys with the Christmas tree.

So, now, the darn thing is dying. The top has gone brown and the branches look pokey.

Why and why now? Could it be because the tree's roots have gone as far as they can go? Could it be that the losses that seem to be filling our house -- loss of job, health, business -- have seeped out of the house and are attacking our tree? Does the sense of loss extend to our tree? Does the tree "feel?"

Or, could it just be too much rain?

I don't know, but this being Park Slope, I'm already composing the sign I'll have to post outside, explaining that "we didn't kill the tree, the tree died its own natural death." Because you know, this is Park Slope and we're bound to get some flack for changing anything. Even if it was nature and not "us."