One could say that the end of OFA was a cutting of roots in many ways. See what I did there? Plus I'm just not a fan of cutting down old growth trees unless they're dead or something. It's kind of rooting for the underdog to me. Seeing how long the old guy can last. Plus old trees feel a little like a Time Machine.
100% on the time machine aspect! If that tree wasn’t completely in the way of the family having a yard, I think it would have stayed. It had an enormous footprint, and 12 year old Andrew was really sad to see it go.
Indeed, we were both uprooted by the move, and it was obnoxious and disturbing to me, but I also grew up a little that day. OFA just stopped existing. RIP!
Our first house had a big tree in front and one of my core childhood memories is falling out of it and thinking I was going to die because I fell on my stomach and couldn’t breath for awhile. The wind was knocked the hell out of me. Then we moved and our next house (the first was a rental, this was the first - and only- house my parents bought) had the biggest avocado tree in the world. This entire neighborhood in Hollywood had been an avocado grove so smart builders had managed to keep a few in back yards. It was spectacular and we climbed on it all summer and it covered half of the house acting as much needed AC. Back to stories about dads, that tree was my dad’s pride and joy. He would ship avocados out to everyone and the tree’s demise was very sad to my dad and kind of tracked with his own. One of my last acts on that house before I sold it was get a crew to come in and core out and cart away the massive stump.
The playgrounds of yourh
One could say that the end of OFA was a cutting of roots in many ways. See what I did there? Plus I'm just not a fan of cutting down old growth trees unless they're dead or something. It's kind of rooting for the underdog to me. Seeing how long the old guy can last. Plus old trees feel a little like a Time Machine.
100% on the time machine aspect! If that tree wasn’t completely in the way of the family having a yard, I think it would have stayed. It had an enormous footprint, and 12 year old Andrew was really sad to see it go.
Indeed, we were both uprooted by the move, and it was obnoxious and disturbing to me, but I also grew up a little that day. OFA just stopped existing. RIP!
Our first house had a big tree in front and one of my core childhood memories is falling out of it and thinking I was going to die because I fell on my stomach and couldn’t breath for awhile. The wind was knocked the hell out of me. Then we moved and our next house (the first was a rental, this was the first - and only- house my parents bought) had the biggest avocado tree in the world. This entire neighborhood in Hollywood had been an avocado grove so smart builders had managed to keep a few in back yards. It was spectacular and we climbed on it all summer and it covered half of the house acting as much needed AC. Back to stories about dads, that tree was my dad’s pride and joy. He would ship avocados out to everyone and the tree’s demise was very sad to my dad and kind of tracked with his own. One of my last acts on that house before I sold it was get a crew to come in and core out and cart away the massive stump.
RIP important childhood trees!