Dispatches From Near

Not to be seen again for 75 years: the Allan Garden Agave Flower Spike

The 100-year-old tree at the south east end of the Allan Gardens from which hung the abandoned wasps' nest I've fretted about in an earlier post is gone.

Unceremoniously sawed off on Monday, this tree - just as the one across the way from it - had dropped a bough after one of the big storms we've had this year. But, while the City of Toronto arborist told me that the old silver maple I blogged about before would probably not receive extreme unction for daring to shed a significant portion of its mass onto the ground, the tree with the wasp nest was executed without hesitation. Maybe this was because it overhung the sidewalk and power lines and Sherbourne Street. If it fell, there would possibly be terrible consequences. 

Bruce and I saw the Parks Department truck parked at the foot of the tree on Monday morning, but I couldn't tell from my vantage point what the objective was of the men in the reflective-tape-covered vests. 

Returning home that afternoon, I actually gasped - just like they do in the graphic novels - when I saw the there was nothing where there used to be a big old tree.

Other events occurring within a block and a half of my immediate vicinity:

The dog walkers have been given a reprieve. The gates, locked up tight just last week, are open again and my neighbours are back every morning to practice their Tai Chi under the watchful gaze of their silly dogs, lying happily on the grass, gnawing on sticks.

The Allan Garden Agave is just about at the end of its reproductive extravaganza.

Gawkers have worn a path in the grass.

The first-bloomed flowers at the bottom of the stalk have run their course and have launched themselves (each a little clone of the mother plant) to their uncertain fate.

Thanks for reading! Have a great week!