The arbutus has lost its lustre. Planted seven years ago by Terry, the occupant of the house torn down to make way for the one that now stands in its place (completed last year), it was his third attempt. "The key to growing an arbutus from a seedling," he told me, "is to keep water off the roots; that's why you see them growing out of rock crevices," and why Terry planted his at the crest of a rise.
As construction of the new house neared completion, I noticed the contractor was indenting the corner of the retaining wall, to accommodate the arbutus. A noble gesture, I thought, one that the City of Vancouver very likely insisted on. But when I told the contractor the retaining wall would only do its job and keep the arbutus's roots in water, thus killing it, he told me it wouldn't.
Now here we are, with the house sold, the new homeowners happy and the contractor richer for his efforts. If anyone is to blame for the imminent death of this arbutus, it won't be the contractor, because he fulfilled his obligation. Nor will it be the City, because the City is never wrong -- and employs people to maintain that fact. So what am I to do? Add this tree to my growing grief bundle, or do I plant my own in protest? My next door neighbour planted an arbutus two years ago and I watch over it like a hawk.
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