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Chicago woman is fit to be tied with rotting berries falling from neighbors'' tree

Chicago Woman "Fit to Be Tied" Over Neighbor's Rotting Berries from Overhanging Tree

In the quiet, tree-lined streets of Chicago's Edgewater neighborhood, where historic homes and lush greenery create a picturesque urban oasis, one resident is waging a frustrating battle against an unlikely foe: her neighbor's mulberry tree. Mary Ann Smith, a longtime homeowner in the area, has found herself increasingly exasperated by the constant barrage of falling berries from the tree that overhangs her property. What might seem like a minor nuisance to outsiders has escalated into a full-blown ordeal for Smith, complete with stained sidewalks, swarms of insects, and a lingering stench of decay that she says is ruining her enjoyment of her own backyard.

The trouble began innocently enough several years ago when the mulberry tree, planted on her neighbor's property, started to mature and produce an abundance of fruit. Mulberry trees, known for their rapid growth and prolific berry production, are a common sight in Chicago's residential areas. They provide shade and attract wildlife, but they also come with drawbacks, particularly when their branches extend beyond property lines. In Smith's case, the tree's limbs stretch well over the fence separating her yard from her neighbor's, allowing ripe—and overripe—berries to plummet onto her concrete patio, walkway, and garden beds below.

"Every summer, it's like a war zone out there," Smith told CBS News Chicago in an exclusive interview. "The berries drop non-stop for weeks. They smash on the ground, turn into this sticky, purple mush, and then they rot. The smell is awful—it's like fermented fruit mixed with something dying. And don't get me started on the stains. My sidewalk looks like it's been tie-dyed in shades of purple and black. I've tried power-washing it, but it just doesn't come out completely."

The visual and olfactory assault is only part of the problem. As the berries decompose, they become a magnet for pests. Birds flock to the area to feast on the fresh fruit, leaving behind droppings that further mar Smith's property. Insects, including flies, ants, and even wasps, are drawn to the rotting mess, creating a buzzing hazard that makes outdoor activities unpleasant. Smith, who enjoys gardening and hosting barbecues for her family, says she's had to cancel plans multiple times because of the infestation. "I can't even let my grandkids play outside without worrying about them stepping in the goo or getting bitten by bugs," she explained. "It's not just inconvenient; it's a health issue."

Smith's attempts to resolve the matter amicably have hit roadblocks. She first approached her neighbor about the issue a couple of years ago, politely suggesting that the tree be trimmed back or that some preventive measures be taken, such as installing netting to catch the falling berries. According to Smith, the neighbor was initially sympathetic but ultimately unwilling to take action. "They said it's their tree and they like the berries for making jam or whatever," Smith recounted. "But the tree is so big now that it's practically half on my side. I offered to split the cost of a professional trimmer, but they brushed it off."

Frustrated by the lack of cooperation, Smith turned to local authorities for help. In Chicago, property disputes involving trees can fall under various municipal codes, but enforcement is often tricky. The city's Department of Streets and Sanitation handles complaints about overhanging branches that pose safety risks, such as those interfering with power lines or sidewalks. However, for nuisances like falling fruit, the options are limited. Smith filed a complaint with the city, hoping for intervention, but was told that since the tree isn't technically violating any ordinances—it's not dead, diseased, or obstructing public right-of-way—there's little they can do. "They suggested I mediate with my neighbor or consider legal action, but who wants to sue over berries?" Smith said with a sigh.

This isn't an isolated issue in Chicago or other urban areas where space is tight and trees are plentiful. Mulberry trees, in particular, have a reputation for being messy. Native to Asia but widely planted in the U.S. for their fast growth and shade-providing canopies, they produce berries that are edible and nutritious—high in vitamins and antioxidants—but their tendency to drop fruit en masse makes them a poor choice for densely populated neighborhoods. Horticulturists often recommend fruitless varieties for city planting to avoid such problems. In fact, some municipalities, including parts of California, have banned fruit-bearing mulberries in certain zones due to similar complaints about stains and pests.

Smith's story resonates with many homeowners who face "neighborly nuisances" that blur the lines between private property rights and communal living. Online forums and community groups in Chicago are filled with tales of similar woes: overhanging branches dropping leaves into pools, roots encroaching on foundations, or, in one memorable case, a walnut tree pelting cars with hard nuts. Experts suggest that open communication is key, but when that fails, options like arbitration through neighborhood associations or small claims court can be pursued. In Illinois, property owners are generally responsible for maintaining trees on their land, but if branches extend over a neighbor's property, the affected party has the right to trim them back to the property line—though they must do so carefully to avoid damaging the tree.

For Smith, the idea of taking matters into her own hands by trimming the tree herself is tempting but fraught with risks. "I don't want to start a feud or accidentally kill the tree and get sued," she admitted. Instead, she's exploring creative solutions, such as installing a tarp or awning under the overhanging branches to catch the berries before they hit the ground. She's also reached out to local arborists for advice on non-invasive ways to manage the fruit drop, like applying growth regulators that reduce berry production, though that would require her neighbor's permission.

The ongoing saga has left Smith feeling "fit to be tied," a phrase she uses to describe her mounting anger and helplessness. "I've lived here for 25 years, and this is the first time something like this has made me question my neighborhood," she said. "I love trees—I have several in my own yard—but there's a responsibility that comes with them. If you're going to plant something that affects others, you need to be considerate."

As summer approaches and the mulberry tree begins its annual fruiting cycle, Smith braces for another season of cleanup and complaints. She's hopeful that increased awareness of her plight might encourage her neighbor to reconsider or inspire city officials to revisit policies on such disputes. In the meantime, she's documenting the damage with photos and videos, building a case should she decide to escalate the matter.

This neighborhood drama underscores a broader truth about urban living: harmony often depends on compromise. For Mary Ann Smith, the simple act of enjoying her backyard has become a test of patience, pitting her against nature, bureaucracy, and the complexities of next-door relations. As she power-washes her stained sidewalk yet again, she can't help but wonder if there's a berry-free resolution on the horizon.

In reflecting on the situation, it's clear that while mulberry trees offer ecological benefits—like providing food for birds and improving air quality—they can also strain community ties when not managed properly. Smith's experience serves as a cautionary tale for homeowners everywhere: before planting, consider the long-term impacts on those around you. For now, in Edgewater, the berries keep falling, and the frustration continues to build.

Experts from the Chicago Botanic Garden weigh in on the matter, noting that mulberry trees can grow up to 50 feet tall and produce thousands of berries per season. Pruning during the dormant winter months is recommended to control size and fruit output, but again, cooperation is essential. Community mediators in Chicago suggest starting with a friendly letter or in-person chat, emphasizing shared benefits like increased property values from mature trees.

Smith's story has even sparked discussions in local online groups, with some neighbors offering sympathy and others sharing their own tree-related horror stories. One resident recounted a similar issue with a neighbor's apple tree dropping fruit that attracted raccoons, leading to nighttime disturbances. Another suggested planting ground cover plants that might naturally deter berry accumulation.

As the debate rages on, Smith remains determined. "I'm not giving up," she asserts. "This is my home, and I deserve to enjoy it without this constant mess." Whether through negotiation, innovation, or intervention, she hopes for a peaceful end to her berry battle, allowing her to reclaim her slice of Chicago paradise.

Read the Full CBS News Article at:
[ https://www.cbsnews.com/chicago/news/chicago-woman-fit-to-be-tied-rotting-berries-neighbors-tree/ ]