Thirty-five years ago, my late husband, Phil Harper, planted a number of arborvitae trees on our property in Little Compton. These trees have grown to become a haven for numerous wildlife, providing shade and contributing to our local ecosystem.  Recently, a Rhode Island Superior Court judge ruled in favor of my neighbor, who had sued to have these trees removed from his sightline to the water, a curious decision to say the least.  My neighbor’s house is approximately 410 feet (more than the length of a football field) from our property line.

The court's ruling was based on an ambiguously written restrictive covenant and the opinion of my neighbor's gardener.  This covenant, drafted by my neighbor 35 years ago, seems to protect and benefit only him, and is set to remain in effect until 2059.  The fairness and long-term implications of such an agreement are questionable.

I'm concerned that this decision sets a troubling precedent.  It prioritizes one individual's view over the environmental benefits these trees provide, including shade during hot summers, habitat for local wildlife, and their role in our watershed.

As I prepare to comply with this court order, I can't help but reflect on the personal significance of these trees as well.  Phil planted them while mourning the loss of a long-term friend to AIDS. As I met and married Phil, our relationship grew alongside these trees, making them a living symbol of our life together.  Some years back, I met Shawn.  Throughout our love for each other and soon to be marriage, the trees have stood sentinel, rooting me to my past, and, metaphorically at least, protecting us from life’s storms.  

I urge our community to consider the broader implications of such rulings.  How do we balance individual property rights with our collective responsibility to the environment?  And how can we ensure that our legal system considers the long-term environmental impact of its decisions?

Dr. Gregory DeJean, Capt(ret), USNR