It wasn’t.
For the next several weeks, Ryan still complained whenever he saw me outside.
He muttered about insects.
He claimed the tree attracted rodents.
He said fallen apples smelled, even though I cleaned my yard every evening during harvest season.
One afternoon, he stood on his side of the fence while I watered my flowers.
“That tree’s root is going to damage my foundation.”
“I doubt its roots reach that far.”
“Roots can spread overnight.”
“So does nonsense.”
He stared at me.
Dean would have been proud of that answer.
A few days later, I received a letter from the homeowners’ association.
Ryan had filed a formal complaint.
Mira, the HOA representative, came to inspect the property.
She was a direct woman in her 50s who was quick to assess a situation and deal with it neutrally.
She walked around the tree, checked the fence line, and took photographs.
Finally, she said, “The tree isn’t violating any rule.”
I let out a breath.
Ryan stood nearby with both arms crossed.
“It does not make the property look beautiful,” he said.
Mira gave him a look that plainly asked whether he was being serious with his remarks.
“Beauty is not your concern as long as the branches do not cross over to your property line,” Mira told him. “You are not permitted to harm the tree.”
“It’s ugly.”
Mira looked at it.
The branches were full of green leaves and small developing apples.
“As I said, that is not an HOA violation.”
Ryan’s face darkened.
After that, he stopped speaking to me.
He still watched, though.
Whenever I worked in the yard, I could feel him looking through his kitchen window.
That was why I installed a trail camera.
I did not tell anyone.
I mounted it low behind a hedge, facing the tree and the gate. It was the same type hunters used in the woods.
Part of me felt foolish.
Ryan was rude, but rude did not always mean dangerous.
Still, Dean had taught me something else.
“Trust the feeling that makes you check the lock twice,” he once said. “You can always laugh at yourself later.”
So I left the camera there.
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