Trees

I am beginning to hate trees. They are fine where they belong but on a small suburban property they are a curse. We have a great karree planted by me before dearest daughter was in matric, two podocarpusses (podocarpi?) planted by Wonfy (wife of nearly fifty years) against my advice, a bottlebrush, one of those creations where the flowers change colour from blue to white or perhaps the other way around but smell nice and various other overgrown shrubs, all planted by Wonfy. Our neighbour has an elm (I think), a mulberry as well as other trees and a huge monstrousity that is already destroying the gutters and roof of HIS house.

The consequence is that our home is in perpetual shade. The eastern aspect of the house is now covered in moss and algae, not even kikyuyu grass will grow where once was lawn and the gutters need continual cleaning. Admittedly my attitude is affected by being claustrophobic as a result of being trapped inside a box ottoman as a child. I need space, damn it! And light! And air! In a normal household the solution would be to cut the trees down. However, Wonfy sees herself as the protector of all growing things and I would rather face a gang of taxi drivers with AK47s than take her on.

No doubt this will upset any number of greenies. Too bad. There never was a forest here on the Witwatersrand in the first place. Nor am I in raptures over the arboreal birds that have migrated here. My sympathies are with the unfortunate grassland species that have been pushed out.

Nothing I can do about it now except hang over the fence and take pleasure in watching the dogs piddling on the trees on the pavements. One dark night I might do the same.