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It has become as much a fall tradition around here as Halloween and Thanksgiving Day. You get into November and sooner or later it’s time for the Mesquite tree to get its annual trim and transition from being a “neighborhood tree” to a “backyard tree”.
Inevitably, it all starts around September with a consultation in the heat between me and my landscaper par excellence Carmelo (pictured amidst the wreckage above), the two of us looking skyward underneath, shaking our heads at how much it has grown since the last fall trimming, noticing its outer branches touching the house and the Tiki bar, most definitely hanging over the wall and the neighbor’s swimming pool. Being a good neighbor, I’m highly sensitive to my property infringing on his, so that means Carmelo and the boys showing up sometime after the heat breaks and all his lawn reseedings from summer Bermuda to winter ryegrass have been completed.
There’s nothing particularly magical or scientific involved: one guy goes up in the tree and starts sawing under Carmelo’s watchful eye, while he handles the lower hanging branches and directs the overall shaping. Me? I’m at the other end of the yard on the other side of the pool reviewing progress from a distance and basically yelling, “Stop!” whenever the guys start getting a little frisky with the saws. It only takes an hour, but in that time the yard is covered with branches. The leafy stuff gets hauled away by his hired hands, the larger branches get cut into two-foot long pieces and stacked against the house where they will dry out over the next year and be ready for burning in the chiminea come next fall. I also have a bunch of mesquite wood chips handy that I’ll soak and toss in the gas grill whenever I’m cooking steaks or fish.
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