Contributor Opinion by Monique DeFrees: Orwellian Neighborhood
Department: Contributor Opinion,Opinion
Tags: by Monique DeFrees, sidewalk
>My block is receiving a facelift of new curbs, gutters and sidewalks. I for one am quite thrilled with the prospect of new curbs and gutters. Living in the lowest part of my block I have witnessed the sewers in front of my house not accept anymore strormwater, forcing the remains into the street, roaring down my yard and into my basement.
Plus, I’ve always been a fan of the sidewalks in our city. Having walked my dog and strolled my children on them for years, I have come to appreciate them very much. The only down side I see to having a sidewalk on both sides of the street now is that I will have to share foot traffic with the other side of the street, making spontaneous meetings less frequent.
Oh, but I just remembered the other downside to getting the new sidewalks, other than the debris and the port-a-potty parked in my neighbor’s yard: all those trees that had to be cut down. I realize that some trees must come down to make way for the construction. Two trees came down in front of my house. They were young and not too large yet so it wasn’t too heart breaking. Other trees that were taken down, though, were very large and it was quite sad and unsightly to see them removed. Once again, I just assumed that was the price of the construction and we would have to accept it.
Imagine my surprise when I am strolling down the brand-new-sparkly sidewalk and I see the new sidewalk make a little detour around a tree. “That’s odd,” I think. “If it was possible to detour the sidewalk around this tree than why wasn’t it possible to detour the sidewalk around other trees just as large as this one?”
Every time I walk down the sidewalk now, and pass by that one saved tree, I can’t help but wonder if Orwell had written about a neighborhood where some properties are more equal than others.
I’ve already told my husband that when the construction reaches our house I will be standing outside in front of our azalea protecting it from destruction. The sidewalk will just have to make another detour. I know it’s just an azalea, but it is breathtaking when in bloom. More than one stranger has knocked on my door in the spring to comment on its beauty and ask me what I have done to make it bloom so fabulously. I have to admit that I do nothing to it. I was just lucky enough to move onto the property it already inhabited. In my opinion, the beauty of that azalea makes it just as equal as the tree that was spared. It’s just too bad the other large trees on our block were not deemed as equal.
This is a contributor opinion. Rockville Central encourages readers to submit such opinions for consideration by emailing rockvillecentral@gmail.com — the more voices the better. We especially welcome people who disagree with us. We ask that all such contributions be civil and we reserve the right to edit (in consultation with the author) or reject. Contributor opinions should not be seen as reflecting opinions held by Rockville Central editors, as they are just as frequently at odds with our own views. That’s the whole point!













Follow on Twitter
Deep roots good, shallow roots bad? I wonder what makes one more equal than the other?I hope your azalea can be saved, though I don’t honestly feel too optimistic about it. I’m surprised they saved the big tree and just went around. Good luck!
Monique,I’m thinking about your azalea. Why don’t you just move them since you enjoy them so much? Now is probably a really good time as plants and shrubs are going dormant. A few years ago, when I did an extreme garden makeover, I gave all my azaleas to a neighbor who successfully moved them. Here’s a link with some instructions…http://www.thegardenhelper.com/replantazalea.htm
Thanks Wendy. I’ve moved azaleas before too. This one is so large I was afraid of damaging it. It may be my only option though
While there’s been so much acrimony and rancor about the upcoming election, which is predictable and even necessary, it’s a very pleasant relief to have a Contributor Opinion about the beauty of nature and how to try to protect that beauty from what seems to be the inevitable encroachment of civilization.Since I’ve become ill with a handicapping neurological disorder, I’ve tried to take a few moments, each day to read poetry, play the piano. Sometimes, I just go outside our house, on the front porch, for a few moments, when the school buses arrive and watch the joy of a parent or grandparent as their child or grandchild gets off the school bus. I didn’t use to do these things, and even though I don’t like being ill, and won’t ever get better, unless some miraculous “off-label” cure mysteriously happens, these moments in life have made me more appreciative of life, and I feel more alive inside.I’ve noticed, with me, people try to “solve” my “problem” with well-meaning suggestions, when I would rather for them just to say something like, “I hear where you’re coming from.” or something like that. So, I might be doing the same thing with you and your azalea bush, Monique by writing what I’m going to write. It’s intended to be helpful. First, I’m very sorry that you and the neighborhood might lose this beautiful plant, which has brought you and your neighbor’s joy and not asked for much in return. Now, it’s being threatened and might die; that’s sad. We had a large tree, in our front yard, with a hand-made swing, which my son loved. It slowly died, over a year or so and we had to cut it down. We all still miss that tree. My son not only loved the swing on it, but so did the neighborhood children (The heck with the liability, I thought.) That probably didn’t make you feel any better, but I wrote it to let you know that I’ve felt some of what I imagine you’re feeling.Now, comes the risky part. I’m going to give you some advice. If you’re not interested in advice, don’t read any farther than where I finish writing about my father, because he’s a very interesting, multi-faceted person, who I think you’d enjoy, and I’ll make a paragraph break there, so you’ll know when to stop. My 90 year old father’s career was with horticulture. He was very good. He planted, transplanted, bushes and trees for us, and even grafted trees, which is wild. If you don’t know what grafting is, it’s when you connect a small limb, of say an apple tree, to another species of apple tree. If successful, and most of his were, the limb grows and produces apples like the limb of the tree from which it came. You do this with as many limbs as you want, on the same tree — pretty cool. Unfortunately, he lives about 8 hours from here. Whatever you decide to do with your azalea bush, thank you for submitting this article. It has a lot of wonderful, up-front and also subtle aspects in it.Now, here’s for the advice about your azalea bush. The link Wendy in her Reply # 2 is pretty close to the kind of transplanting my father would do, as best I remember, except I think he would water the transplanted azalea, some, until a little while before we get frost, which I know is hard to predict. If you decide to transplant it, I’ll check with him and get his opinion. Brad and Cindy have my e-mail and phone number. Please leave a message, if you call and I’m not home.
Monique, I share your love of trees and plants and was dismayed that so many alongside Beall Elem. also have come down.A few years ago the city was cutting down apple trees. I had three on my property at the time (the swale, not “really” my property) and all were marked for destruction.First I hung a sign on all three that said “SAVE ME!” because I didn’t know when the ax man cometh for them (sorry) and then I called the city forester.She actually came to my house and agreed to save one of the three–the biggest. I was thrilled and to this day thoroughly enjoy that tree. The apples are awful, but the blooms have the most powerful, lovely scent. Oddly, the tree did not bloom at all this year, the first time in 10 years. Hopefully it will next year.So don’t be afraid to call the city and ask to save your plant. I did and it worked. Good luck!