Vegetation management as vegetation melancholy

Yesterday, I wept over my Japanese maple---ok, not literally. But, it’s a nice opening image, isn’t it? A girl in all black crying over a sweeping, pale tree. Very gothic.

Anyway, here’s the true story: I was outside in the heat doing some yard work and noticed that the 100+ heat wave had scorched part of the left side of my favorite, delicate front yard centerpiece. So, I cursed a bit. Then, I climbed a stepladder and tried to trim off the burnt bits.

Before owning a home, I never understood how attached people can get to plants. Vegetarians don’t eat meat because of a variety of reasons, one of which is a sentimental attachment to animals. There is no word for people who don’t eat plants because of a sentimental attachment to them, but I could, yesterday, fully understand where they might be coming from, if we had a word for that.

I’m reminded of my own recent veggie sentimentality because of PPL. Today, they reached a court-approved agreement with the National Park Service that will allow the utility to trim vegetation around a key power line in the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area near Bushkill, Pa. Apparently, there was a dispute about whether the right-of-way had been regularly maintained by PPL and whether or not PPL would need a special permit to go ahead with the VM work. And that dispute got so out-of-hand that there were legalities involved.

All I could think was, “It’s all important, I know---every tree, every shrub, every non-aesthetic trim on an aesthetic view---it’s all vitally important … until the power goes out.”

Sentimental and aesthetic attachments to greenery can actually pose a big, big problem for utilities. A fear that the utility company will “whack” at trees and trample flower beds brings a lot of uncertainty to vegetation management (VM) programs.

And, if the 2003 Northeast blackout taught us anything, it’s that vegetation management is of fundamental importance in the care and feeding of a power grid. Remember that blackout? Terrorist fears and knee-jerk reactions finally aside, it came down to vegetation in a David-and-Goliath tech battle. And, just like in the Good Book, David won. Unfortunately, in that circumstance, the low-tech, tiny adversary isn’t the one we were all rooting for. We were on the Goliath side of the equation---that long, complicated, high-tech grid system.

But Goliath went out like a light, for a day and half. People were stranded. Businesses were closed. It cost the area billions.

Now, the PPL situation in Pennsylvania is not quite so drastic---and actually fairly uncommon. Usually, if there is VM issue, it’s on a private, individual level rather than a public, widespread one. When doing articles on vegetation management and tree programs, utilities always have a gaggle of stories about homeowners unhappy about or afraid of the utility clearing out and cleaning up around power lines and poles. Some of those individuals are doing things they shouldn’t be (like backyard drug labs, rights-of-way cockfighting farms or illegal shooting ranges) and don’t wish to get caught, but most, like me, are just sentimental and attached to how they’ve grown, sculpted and nurtured their vegetation. Sure, that vegetation might be directly underneath a power line---as my fabulous backyard outdoor room is which I love for its palm tree and adorable seating area perfect for a summer afternoon lemonade---but that doesn’t mean I want that power line to take top priority.

Well, I don’t want it to take top priority until my palm, stretching toward the hot summer sun, tangles itself in the power line and causes an outage. Then, I wouldn’t care if they had to burn that palm, along with the seating area, as a sacrifice to the power gods in order to get that precious electricity back on.

So, when faced with vegetation melancholy and sentimentality about VM, I’m going to take the same position I do on vegetarianism in general: I understand the point-of-view. I even have some empathy for the emotional reaction, but, alas, I just can’t subscribe to the philosophy.

In the end, I love my Japanese maple and my backyard baby palm tree, but, in 106-degree Oklahoma Augusts, I love my air conditioner even more. The utility can come trim in my backyard anytime; I’ll even loan them some clippers, if they need some.