“The roots of the tree, they’re taking all the moisture from your grass you see. I don’t imagine it’s an easy task trying to cut the grass there!”
“No, it’s a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah I’d imagine it’s a pain in the ass. You gotta take those trees right out, it’s an eyesore.”
“Well they’re in the neighbours yard and they look good for him, nice coverage for his bay window.”
“Well it’s a shit deal, and it’s a pain in the ass for you to cut your grass! just because they’re not on your property, shit , you can still take care of that.”
“Oh yeah, you take that straight to the city , straight to city hall. The damn things are growing up in his yard, but those damn roots are entering your yard and making it a pain in the ass for you.
“Yeah, cutting the grass.”
“Yup, so that basically falls right into zoning regulation , these trees are entering your property and decreasing the value. If I were you I’d take it right down to city hall, before those roots take over, fuck up your plumbing.”
“I should probably say something to him.”
“Aye, might be the courteous thing to do but I bet you my left shoe he’s going to raise a stink.”
“I probably would too, all that work.”
“Awe shit, Mose.” Tommy laughed and walked down my sidewalk to his truck and left.
He had come over to borrow money and ended up lecturing me about my yard. He probably felt justified taking my money after giving me such valuable information.
I sat and looked at the roots growing out of my side of the yard.
The dead grass, pine cones and needles. The veins reaching towards my house. It occurred to me I don’t know much about trees and I don’t think I’ll ever be bothered to learn much about them.
These trees are only blindly following their path to survival. Here I am nursing the idea of executing them for trespassing.
So I decided to shed the weight of any decision. The law of the universe is too mighty. I now believe that whatever I do with an inch of that power would pale to the creatures who live blind of consciousness and order and take, trespass and survive.
I also decide that I must sit and drink a beer before the weeds in the garden get to tall and I’m living under an overpass, surrendering to the more deserving life forms.
I forget about it all very soon. I flip through the phone book and start making calls. I don’t need that pain in my ass while I cut my grass.