A few months ago, Leslie and I found a house that we really liked. It had many of the ranch like characteristics that I enjoy, including a dutch door on the front, an aesthetically pleasing mix of brick, weatherboard and shake, and in the front yard a huge pine tree that shaded the front of the house, and hung a canopy of deep green over the street. It was the sort of pine that extends out in all kinds of crazy directions rather than going straight up, the kind my grandparents have in the back yard. A wonderful tree. It was not only a provider of shade and privacy for the front of the house, but an anchor for the entire street. The house was a little out of our price range so we were not able to make an offer, but I was content to know that I could drive past the house and look at it in the future.
Well, the house sold a few months ago, and today I drove past. At first, things looked a little different, but I did not recognize why immediately. Then I realized I was passing the house, and I looked, stunned to see that its new owners had cut the tree down. There was but a huge stump where it had stood, probably for many more years than the house (which was built in 1950). I began to think why this would happen. Leslie and I had not thought the tree looked sick when we inspected the house a few months earlier. No, it seemed that barring an unseen deficiency, the real reason must be the callous aesthetic or lack of responsibility of the new owner.
Here are my thoughts on the topic. I know, you buy a house, you build your castle. But when something is so much a part of the character of the street, it seems that you should adapt your sensibilities to suit what nature hath wrought. I grudgingly accept that today people with lots of money are sweeping through the foothills here, tearing down the ample and in my opinion beautiful 1950s ranch homes, throwing up ghastly stucco monstrosities in their wake. But for the most part the development I have seen has been respectful of the ancient monuments that dot the landscape. This goes too far.
I was talking to Arnaud at work, and he said that Saratoga has a policy where they can force you to pay money to them in escrow which they will hold during your construction on property with protected trees, such that if anything happens to the trees, they keep your money (and it can run into the tens of thousands of dollars). This seems like the only way to effectively safeguard these most beautiful aspects of our communities when the primary motivator these days seems to be on conspicuous consumption of everything available - including space, and the lack of respect for what has come before.