Argh! Every house we’ve purchased has featured some quantity of junipers in the landscape motif. To their credit, junipers are hardy. Unflinching in broiling summers and subzero winters, they tolerate the high desert clime. They are also hospitable to all kinds of crawling and scurrying things.
The Pontiac house had nearly been swallowed by the acrid, (yet nicely sculpted), ameboid monsters encroaching the drive and eclipsing access to the breezeway. The junipers had to go. The larger branches were very hard and the roots were massive. After considerable chopping, digging and some exciting moments involving a chain and our old truck, they were out. Located on the corner, the final bush proved to be a time capsule: vintage bottles, cans, marbles, little green army guys, fur, and one red rotary wall phone complete with receiver, handset and extended cord. I’ve amused myself concocting stories of how the phone came to rest in the bush, but I’d love to know the real story.
Once the junipers were gone the house regained its graceful poise. So worth it.