I asked my tree-surgeoning pal Rissoles to tog up and bring them safely to ground rather than waiting for them to fall on the fragile garden shed immediately below. I did the ground works as and when timmmmmber came down from above. While he was up there he did a bit of prophylaxis: evening up the weight upstairs and tidying the ragged ends of previous falls. When he'd finished the tree was safe and looked neat. I was happy and relieved.
A very few months later, the owner / rentier of the house next door announced that he was going to sell his house as part of his retirement package . . . and would we now agree to fell out another large ratty looking Mackie that stood on the property boundary overhanging both his garden and the county road. It looked ratty because about 20 years before a family friend had gone up the tree with a chainsaw wearing jeans and a pair of runners and cut away random pieces of top hamper to reduce the windage. Feeling pressured by a fellow who hadn't been bothered to say hello previously, I didn't feel super-happy about this
When the tree was down and everything was almost all tidied away he gestured at the pruned and tidied Mackie on which Rissoles had worked that Spring and asked <sneer> "Who did that?". The clear implication was a) that I was a fool to pay for the work and b) that sort sort of thing was a waste of time. The next statement was quite explicit "The only thing to do with them big Mackies is to fell 'em for firewood". The idea of respecting the right to exist of a tree that had been 60 or 80 years a-growing was, to him, laughable. The thought that a tree, in and of itself, was a thing of beauty in the landscape or utility in the ecosystem was impossible for him to imagine. Big trees were just something in the way, which had potential to be converted into money. I've told this story to a number of people in the tree and timber trade and they've all had a flash of recognition. I don't have to name the crusher of the treescape because he is an archetype - so common as to be almost the norm - whose chainsaw is a vital part of his sense of machismo. Is it a wonder that they behave like dicks? . . . and they make money by paying the workers as little as possible.