The 98-foot-high pine tree (30 meters) in our garden was chopped down today after my mother decided it had become a danger to us and our neighbors.
More than 30-years-old, our pine tree towered above us with its many branches and pine cones, that used to fall on our grounds and also on our neighbor's property. We often have small, localized wind storms that knock over many trees in Brasilia, so there was the real danger of this tree being blown over, or at the very least losing some large branches in strong winds.
Tiao, the man we hired to cut it down, first lopped off the top 20-feet. Once that was done, he made a large cut near the base of the tree. Ropes were attached to the tree in order to pull it down in the right direction. The first round of tugging on the tree by three men made the tree sway but not come down. It took the added strength of our maid Silvania and another guy to finally bring the tree down. I'll miss the tree and the pretty cones it produced.
Gee, Rasheed, that is depressing as hell. I hate it when a tree I love has to go down. I even hate it when a stupid little bulb I saved from some herbal thing purchased at the grocery store sprouts, looks promising, and then wilts and dies when I plant it.