Landscaping in Omaha lives between mature trees and new sod, and hail punishes both. In Dundee, Benson, and the older west-side streets, maples and oaks drop limbs onto roofs and fill dented gutters with leaves the same night the ice strips the hostas. On open lots in Elkhorn and Millard, young plantings have no shelter. Ice shreds them, then the sun and wind bake the scraps. The new trees and the old limbs are not the same visit.
Grade is the quiet Omaha problem. Clay soil and a yard that slopes toward a brick foundation will put storm water in the basement the next time hail comes with rain. Downspouts that end at the porch step are part of the landscape whether or not anyone calls them that. Extensions, swales, and beds that do not bury the siding are the work. Mulch piled up the brick is not a finish. It is a wet wall.
A weekly cut still needs a definition. What is included, what happens when the week is soaked, and whether fall leaves are part of the season or a separate push. Hail cleanup is its own visit: bruised perennials, punctured shade leaves, and twigs driven into the lawn. Raking the debris and ignoring a limb that now rests on the ridge is incomplete. Say if the tree work is pruning, removal, or simply getting the storm off the house so the roof can be seen.
Irrigation heads that spray the siding keep the same brick wet that the grade is already threatening. Heads tipped by mowers or heaved by freeze belong in the call if you have a system. So does a controller running through a wet week. You do not need a planting plan drawn to scale to start. You need the size of the yard, the direction it slopes, and whether you are asking for maintenance or for a yard the last storm rearranged.
Say the neighborhood, mow or cleanup or beds or trees or sprinklers, and whether hail did the damage. Mention if water runs toward the house. Omaha's tree cover is an asset until a storm turns it into debris on a bruised roof. Sort the yard from the shingles and then get the yard handled. Call the number on this page.