HISTORIC VIEW AND MAINTENANCE AREA.
I raised my hand.
Vanessa looked annoyed.
“Yes?”
“Where did that map come from?”
“Our management files.”
“Recorded where?”
“It reflects longstanding use.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Martin looked toward Vanessa.
“I asked management the same thing.”
“And?”
“They could not identify a recorded easement.”
Vanessa shifted in her chair.
“That does not necessarily eliminate prescriptive rights.”
I looked at her.
“Who maintained the trees?”
“We have years of landscaping records.”
“On which side of the property line?”
She did not answer immediately.
Martin did.
“Silver Ridge property.”
I placed my survey on the table.
“The boundary is here.”
I traced it.
“If branches extend across your line, deal with them only to the extent the law allows on your side. You do not cross onto my land and remove trees.”
Vanessa smiled.
“No one is proposing that.”
I looked directly at her.
“Good.”
That sentence became important.
Not philosophically.
Legally.
Twelve days later, she did exactly what she had just said nobody was proposing.
On the Monday the trees were cut, I left at six-thirty in the morning for a dock installation at the south end of the lake.
My crew and I spent most of the morning setting the last sections.
My phone remained in the truck for long stretches because I was working near water.
Around eleven, one of my boundary cameras sent multiple motion alerts.