A serious disadvantage of renting...

This morning, the purring of an electric saw drew us downstairs to look through the kitchen window. Peering outside, Rowan and I noticed a couple workers trimming all the low branches on the hemlock near the back door. Rowan said urgently: "Tell them to stop!" He was mad as this is his favorite climbing tree. A place where he has spent countless hours playing and climbing in an imaginary world all his own. I remember places like that from my childhood. The wisteria that felt like a jungle once I was inside the tangle of branches or the magical pathways through the burning bushes which led to imaginary kingdoms.

For Rowan's sake, I did go ask the workers about the tree. They said they just needed to be able to get underneath the tree to clean (clean what I am not entirely sure). Also, they mentioned that the deer were eating a lot of the low branches anyway. Well, all those branches are now gone and the deer can't reach it to mess with it. And sadly, neither can my little one.

Afternoon edit to this morning's melodrama:
It turns out that all's not lost when it comes to the Climbing Tree. The workers did end up leaving one lower branch that Rowan can just reach. Well, the tree's not the same (frankly it looks a bit odd), but my boy can still get in it. As he swung up into the tree he pointed out that now there's a shady spot to sit underneath it and he's right.