I was sure something was up when my neighbor first moved in. First of all, it’s a strange house architecturally. On a hill of period Craftsman, Colonial, Victorian and Tudor, up pops this stucco box, cold and contemporary. It looks positively clinical.
The first thing my neighbor wanted to do was take out the grand old maple tree out front. Bereft of leaves, I believe she thought it dead.
“You can’t do that!” we cried. “These trees belong to the city.”
We love our trees for softening and quieting the street–and what we couldn’t say is that it helps to hide her house when full of leaf.
Her hair was colored a Raggedy Ann red then. She came and went in a dark red car. Her outfits at the time were primarily red, black or perhaps purple. These things I noticed.
When she first moved in the shades on her house were drawn, night and day. I noticed that too.
My new neighbor hammered wreaths in that tree out front for decoration before I could stop her. As a Master Gardener, I have to believe that hammering anything into a tree compromises its integrity. Still, I should have spoken up because she has since then only hammered in more ornamentation. The lady collects stuff, or let’s just say, stuff finds her.
But what I found most curious and what led me to my suspicions, were the assorted little dried gourds and pods she placed on the ground wherever she planted anything. I was sure they must mean something….
I think she’s a witch.
There ought to be some way to ask, but I haven’t found it. And here I am, totally amiable to the idea of an earth-based pagan religion. Especially one that honors both Goddess and God, the changing seasons and cycles of the moon. To me there’s a natural balance to natural law. The law of return, “What you put out, comes back to thee,” is simply karma to me. Healing with herbs, I don’t have a problem with that. And I would never, ever, hammer ornamental items onto trunks of trees.
Hey, maybe I’m the witch?
a little elbow room
a little elbow room 
Sounds like you need to contact the Master Gardener Police.
According to Oxford Dictionary’s definition of a witch, you seem to have only one* of the following traits:
a woman thought to have evil magic powers, popularly depicted as wearing a black cloak and pointed hat, and flying on a broomstick.
a follower or practitioner of modern witchcraft; a Wiccan priest or priestess.
informal – an ugly or unpleasant old woman.
*a girl or woman who is bewitchingly attractive
an edible North Atlantic flatfish.
Maybe she’s an island princess, jestering out the sap and making sweet syrup from the trees! To bring forth new growth for a crack in the old or She’s maybe changing the chakra and vibe with what you think is junk finding her , a recycling approach to what maybe a reuse of things not yet appreciated! Who know, is she witch, or Pippy Longstocking.!
Without a howdy or welcome or hello you’ll never know! I hear coffee is big in your neck of the woods, maybe a cup of joe over welcome to the neighborhood would be good. a hello would start the conversation, a hello may grow into more then I wonder why the curtains are done up so, a hello would write itself an understanding, and maybe save the city trees you dear.
Just saying but what do I know I moved in and have planted six tree on my land, some for shade, some for ascetics and peace, new ones for fruit and yes some to give shelter and peace. all have given my conversations with my neighbors.
John
Beth, you are a witch, you”ve have been conjering up rabbits since I’ve known you !!!!!!!!
this is hilarious