I really hope he doesn’t!

I’m having three trees removed on Friday!

Numbers 1 and 3, in a line of 4, that I planted a few years ago have now become too big. They are crowding each other so much that they are all in danger of dying, unless they get more space to prosper.

The third cull will be a sycamore that I have allowed to grow for the last 20 years. It’s a magnificent tree but hardly fit for the garden of a 3-bed semi. It’s already 30 feet tall and has a long way to go yet. Well, it would have, if I hadn’t decided it should be converted to compost!

In preparation, I have been rescuing lots of Clematis that enjoy climbing trees, just as I did as a young lad. I’ve pulled some out of their home, to be later encouraged to climb trellis or other trees. Others I have cut back, and will speak nicely to them to encourage re growth.

I’ve also rescued the cabling to some solar lights so that Joe, the tree man (and concreting, gardening, paving, and fencing if you so wish) does not slice through it with his chain saw.

This afternoon I took out all the bird feeders and the bird – house (vacant possession assured). I shall be able to clean them thoroughly before replacing. A long overdue process!

Shortly after I got back inside there was a violent knocking at the door! “What the bloody hell have you done with my dinner?” demanded the Chaffinch.

I explained what I had done, and why, and that I had put alternative feeders on the stand in the middle of the garden.

“Not good enough!” he said. “I, and my family, need the cover of the trees to be safe whilst we are eating.”

I apologized profusely and told him that the feeders would all be back in place on Friday afternoon.

“Not much use to me and my family”, he said. “I might have to find somewhere else to eat”

With that, he stormed off in a flurry of feathers!

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