I grew up in Upper Arlington — Tremont Elementary, Jones Middle School, UAHS class of '97. I know these streets, these yards, and the trees that have shaped this neighborhood for generations.

I left for a while. Worked orchards. Volunteered in the old growth rainforest of the Olympic Peninsula — the oldest trees in America. Helped write speeches for US Senator George Voinovich. Came back with a different kind of education and a deeper respect for what we have right here.

Arlington Tree Co. is built around hand tools, patient observation, and work that respects the long life of a tree. I take on less so I can do it better.

The tools are half the work. Silky saws, Felco pruners, blades maintained with Yoshihiro Tsubaki oil — the same standard Japanese knife-makers hold their edges to. A few pieces came from my grandfather's collection. Still razor sharp. Still doing exactly what they were built for. Nothing gets replaced until it earns it. Clippings bundled in natural twine, carried out in kraft paper — no plastic touches the yard.

Every cut is a wound before it heals. We treat it like one. An iron mordant — vinegar and rust, the same alchemy used in natural dyeing for centuries — goes on first, awakening the wood's own tannins into a protective layer. Shellac follows: pure alcohol, pure resin, straight from the tree. Together they seal and armor the exposed cambium while it recovers, the way a surgeon closes a wound before the body takes over. Nothing synthetic. The tree does the rest.