I see the Golden Spruce killer was on the D.B. Cooper retirement plan.
Briefly back to the cul-de-sac of our private grief, this will serve to illustrate:

That's our new view to the southeast. Nearly intolerable at first, we've had no choice but to acclimate ourselves to prying eyes.
I spent most of my youth climbing trees. Never learned what names they went by, and I still depend on the kindness of strangers to ID them. 'Sycamore' has a nice ring to it.