A neighbor cut down his oak tree the other day. This probably happens every day in Dorchester and across the neighborhoods of Boston. It was just another tree. So what’s the big deal, right? 

Back in the summer of 2001, I was at home with a newborn. He was my first child, and I was grateful to be at home full time to care for him and learn how to be a mother. I spent numerous hours holding him, nursing him, playing with him, and all throughout that period, the tree was outside our window, standing tall and strong.

I watched the colors of the leaves change from green to orange and yellow as the days shortened and autumn arrived. I saw the tree shed its copious leaves as the cold days of winter approached. The leaves blanketed our yard with the colors of fall in New England. After my daughter was born, we’d gather those leaves into piles, jump into them, frolick in them, and eventually rake them up and bag them for the city’s compost bins.

In the winter, the tree stood bare of leaves, but high up I could see the birds’ nests in its sturdy branches Then, when the snow fell, the branches caught much of it for a wintry display above our yard. 

As the kids grew, we adapted our yard to suit them, and the tree stood watch over all of us. We built a patio under the tree, and its shady branches created a canopy that inspired a friend’s comparison of our yard to the south of France. We knew we were still in Dot, but we had created our own peaceful haven from the busy city streets. 

Fast forward to 2020, and the Covid lockdown, and the tree remained tall and strong throughout all of it. Sure, it could have used some pruning, like all established trees need periodically. A few years back, we did prune a few branches that stretched too close to our house. But as we remained home from work and school during all of last year to stay safe, we sat on the patio under the tree each day, and gave thanks for its steadfast shade. 

So when the tree’s owners cut it down, we were devastated. They claimed they were worried about it giving them problems in the future and they wanted to do something else with their yard. Okay, it was their tree, and to chop it down was their right. 

But I wish they could have left part of the tree - the branches that shaded our patio. The massive trunk surely stored large amounts of carbon that had accumulated over the many decades of its life. And now, the tree is gone. 

Perhaps I’m getting more sentimental as I grow older, but I feel like I have lost a dear friend. I know that the local birds, squirrels, chipmunks, and raccoons have lost a sturdy, reliable place to rest. And I hope that other city residents will appreciate the value of a healthy old tree in their yard and do better than our neighbors.”

Kathleen McManus is a Dorchester resident and a former staff writer for the Reporter.