A tree story

The rooster next door crows at 5.40. My alarm is due to go off at 6. How can I co-ordinate these two? The only sensible way is to reset the alarm, but my preference is to sew a little nightcap for this bird similar to the hood they put on falcons and let it think the sun isn't coming up! Speaking of which, the sun now only rises after six and we actually have to put a light on - signs of autumn approaching. We have not had a particularly hot summer and I don't think many of us are ready for shorter days yet, but the lack of wind is such a pleasure.
Yesterday we (I held the ladder) cut down a large section of the Brazilian pepper tree that grows right next to the boundary wall. These trees, which can be attractive in the centre of a large field or perhaps in a rainforest, have an incredible aptitude for survival. Their roots are invasive and travel far - you will notice how far when a new tree starts to grow from the root in the centre of your lawn. Every time you trim a branch off, 6 or 10 new ones will shoot out and head straight up for the sunlight through the canopy of the tree. This makes for dense foliage at the top and thick, intertwined trunks all the way up. If we had known then what we know now about the tree's survival instincts, I doubt whether we would ever have trimmed it.
There is no doubt that this is not a species for a suburban garden. When I planted this tree, it never occurred to me that it would ever grow so big, as nothing else I've ever planted has flourished like this one.

The poor neighbours live practically in darkness because of this tree in front of their windows, and their lights are on constantly. The fact that they have never asked us to cut it down is a great pity, as I would like nothing more than to be rid of it, but HWCFA has a mania for letting trees live and hates it when I trim. We have a myrtle hedge at the front of the house that is the bane of my life - over the years it has become like a little forest, home to many birds and probably the odd snake or three, and it certainly is a fantastic windbreak providing relief from the southeaster.
I frequently tell him that, on the day he dies, I'll be calling tree fellers to remove it all!