Two wrecked homes and an apple tree

There used to be a pretty little old house with a glass veranda in our neighborhood. There was a romantic charm to the tumbling outbuildings, neglected orchard and  rose-tinted flower garden. 
I was told that the owners had inherited the property and were renting it out and, indeed, tenants came and went.  In time, the outhouse was torn-down, the apple trees uprooted and the hedges grubbed up.  Denuded of its surroundings, the house remained but appeared increasingly forlorn until even the tenants fled.  Finally, the no- longer pretty house was left abandoned: a ghost of the home it had once been.
Then, exactly one year ago -

the bulldozers arrived and, in no time, half the house had already fallen.

The machines grabbed, smashed and battered down the tired old walls

shredded the interior

then, it finally collapsed.

Which brings me to the apple tree.
At this point, I must confess that I am sometimes a reluctant gardener, particularly when it comes to pruning.  Consequently, the old apple trees had been allowed to grow as they will.   This resulted in monster trees where every egotistical twig and branch twisted into an impenetrable mesh.     
Nevertheless, for a few days every spring the trees were magical.

However, this is the way they were.
This year, we decided to take back control, so,  a gardener was called in and he was ruthless with his saw.   Wood was creaking, splitting, groaning, splintering and from  among the crashing  branches, a little bird nest tumbled out of a  nesting box.

Embedded within was a perfect little speckled egg.

We were so sad to have wrecked this perfect little home and although we tried to make amends and find a new site for the nest, the birds never returned.
Next year, hopefully, the apple trees will be on the mend and delighting us once more with blossom, and who knows, perhaps the birds will build a new home.

Meanwhile, one year on, a new house has been built on the ruins of the demolished house and is almost ready for occupation.

Anna.