Denise tore the notice from her door and read it again, her hands shaking. At the top, in bold black letters, it said “NOTICE OF VIOLATION: Destruction of a Registered Heritage Tree.” Beneath it stood a fine of forty-five thousand dollars, plus a demand to replace the tree with three mature maples. She looked up and saw two city officials in green vests, a county arborist, and a police officer standing in her driveway, each holding a clipboard.

“This is absurd,” she shouted. “It was a tree in someone’s front yard!” The arborist stepped forward calmly. “Ma’am, in 1996, Mr. Frank Hargrove applied to register this maple as a heritage tree, and the city approved it. Anyone who removes it without a permit commits a civil offense.” Denise’s mouth opened and closed. Then I walked out of my house, holding the crushed wind chime in both hands.