The arborist looked at the property survey again and then walked back toward the stump. He asked me where exactly the property line ran, and I pointed to the old marker near the fence. He nodded and said, “Then the trunk was entirely on your side.” I told him my neighbor had always claimed the tree was partly his, but the arborist shook his head. Then he explained that because the tree had been rooted on my property, the situation wasn’t simply about removing a tree. The value of the tree itself could be part of the claim.
I asked how much a ninety-year-old oak could possibly be worth. He gave me a number that made me laugh because it was several times higher than the cost of removing the stump. Then he explained that the calculation wasn’t based on firewood or lumber. It considered the tree’s age, species, size, condition, location, and the cost of replacing what had been destroyed. I suddenly understood why my neighbor had laughed when I mailed him the removal estimate. He thought I was asking him to pay for cleanup. I hadn’t realized the tree itself was the important part.
The next morning, I called my attorney and sent her the survey, photographs, and the arborist’s report. She asked me one question: “Did he know the tree was on your property before he cut it?” I remembered the conversation we’d had two months earlier, when he’d complained about the branches and I had specifically told him not to touch the tree. I still had the text message where he’d replied, “Fine, it’s your tree.” My attorney told me to save everything and send her a copy immediately. The tree was gone, but the evidence he’d left behind was worth far more than the stump.
