Howdy, Neighbor -- Goodbye Trees

I'm not prejudiced against backhoes. Really, I'm not....

I should be happy to be getting new neighbors. Some folks bought the last chunk of available lakefront property in our neighborhood last year. Their intent, as we understand it, is to build a nice little lake getaway.

So wouldn't you think they'd enjoy having a nice, well-established shelterbelt to provide a little privacy? Keep the trees, build on the three-quarters of the lot that's clear?


Heavens no. The backhoe, front-end loader, and dumptruck arrived this morning to clear out darn near every tree on the lot. House a-comin' -- those trees gotta go.

Call me a sap. Call me a treehugger. Call me worse. But my heart genuinely aches to see those trees torn down. I felt the same way last year when I drove down the Valley Road and found a great old stand of massive cottonwoods, some looking big enough to have been around since homesteading days, reduced to grim, gnarled piles of refuse, just to make way for a few more acres of some profiteers crops.

It particularly hurts to see trees torn from the prairie because, as my wife reminds me as she watches the destruction, every tree in a shelterbelt—and and so many of the trees we see in South Dakota—is here as a result of some person's labor. (I planted 150 trees and bushes in my yard a couple years ago; I know whereof I speak.) Someone planted those trees long ago, before many of us were born, knowing that he or she would never enjoy the fullest shade and shelter of those trees. These trees are monuments to someone's unselfishness and foresight, better memorials than any tombstone.

And then these trees, which have withstood deer, drought, and windstorms (another mighty blast last night, a surprise gale and downpour that sent us mere humans scurrying for cover while the trees just danced), are knocked over in a workday, to make room for a little bigger garage.

We'll still have the new neighbors over for dinner when they move in. But we hope that everyone in South Dakota will make a little promise: if you absolutely have to clear out some trees for the sake of progress, see if you can transplant them somewhere. And if the trees you have to clear are just too big to move, go down to the conservation district office next spring, and get some saplings, and plant replacements, one for each one you pulled down. Then plant them... wherever, your yard, your kids' yard, wherever you can find a spot. Plant them somewhere you can tend them, somewhere you think they'll last.