A man answered after two rings.
“Summit Tree, this is Brad.”
“Brad,” I said evenly, “why did your crew cut down six sycamore trees on my property this morning?”
There was a pause. Papers rustled. I could imagine Brad scrolling through his work orders, trying to find the authorization for what his crew had done, trying to understand why the homeowner was calling to complain instead of just accepting it.
“Well, sir, we received a work order from the Cedar Ridge Estates HOA for lot boundary clearing along the south overlook.”
“That overlook isn’t their land,” I said. “It’s mine. It’s always been mine.”
Another pause. Longer this time. The kind of pause that happens when someone realizes they might have made a significant mistake.
“Sir… the HOA president signed the authorization. They indicated the trees were encroaching on community property and blocking the neighborhood’s view corridor.”
