I’ve mentioned before that I really enjoy the wildlife around my apartment. I’ve watched a pair of quail bobble around under the trees outside my bedroom window. There’s an enormous robin who thinks he owns the front yard, who tries to eat the ivy berries off the vines that cover the tree trunks. I watched the sparrows going in and out of the ivy Wednesday night, nesting. I’ve heard a mourning dove in the last week and saw a starling fight in the trees this morning on my way out the door to work.
I got home last night and was putting the key in the lock when I looked to the left towards the trees, where I like to think of the sparrows sleeping in the ivy and maybe the fat robin, too.
There was nothing to the left.
The trees by the house are gone, there is a huge expanse of bare ground where there used to be grape hyacinths and leaf mold and happy quail, and I don’t care what gets planted instead–there is no reason to cut down perfectly healthy, ivy-covered, bird-harboring trees.
Bastards.