Trees of Eden

About Trees of Eden

The cottonwoods that line Columbus's older streets carry a lot of snow load by January, and Trees of Eden knows those branches as well as anyone in town from the pruning work that fills the warmer months. That same eye for a tree's weight and lean translates to reading a roofline or a walkway before the first pass with a shovel. Evenings here can turn quickly once the sun drops behind the Absarokas, and a sidewalk that was clear at noon can glaze by five — this crew treats that stretch of afternoon as the real test of the day. Near the old swinging bridge over the Yellowstone, the wind funnels down the river corridor and drifts collect where nobody expects them; clearing those pockets by hand, not just blade, is part of the job. What's left afterward is a walk you can take without watching your feet, and a driveway with room to breathe.