The Pepper Tree

We had this lovely pepper tree. It created shade in our back patio for the better part of the day. It shared its cool shadows with us generously. It afforded us the opportunity to have shady plants like azaleas in our garden. Its long, green extensions hung down over us and swayed elegantly in the breeze...

Early this week, a tree trimmer came by. Xavier. Our neighbors up the hill had hired him to cut back some of the growth that stood between them and their ocean view. They had instructed him, he said, to cut back the tops of our pepper tree by six feet. No, no, we insisted. Not six feet. Too much. We agreed--with the tree trimmer, so we thought--on three or four feet. No more. That seemed fair. And the tree would be carefully shaped, to preserve its natural elegance. The job was scheduled for Thursday and Friday. Our neighbor, Xavier assured us, would stop by to be sure we were in full agreement on the extent of the work

We saw nothing of our neighbor this week. Thursday, the job started on schedule. There was plenty of work to do in other areas, so our pepper tree remained untouched at the end of the day. Today, Friday, Ellie was working down in the studio, I on the computer in my little back room. Towards noon, Ellie came back up, intending to get ready to go out for the afternoon. I heard her call me from the back patio. I found her in a fury...

They have butchered our pepper tree. There's no other word for it. There is no way in the world this can be called a trim. No way it can be called a three- to four-foot layering off the top. This was not even a bad hatchet job. This was wholesale, wanton, senseless butchery. Take a look...

The "job" was not yet finished. We insisted that the trimmers stop right there, where they were, so that we could have our neighbors come by to see the damage. I walked up the hill to fetch them, but it seems they are both gone for the day.

Impossible to say what can be done to restore the beauty of this tree. For no apparent reason, a couple of branches have remained untrimmed, sticking out forlornly this way and that. The rest is the stumps you see above. We are heartsick and can barely contain the anger that we feel.