A Tree-Hugger's Lament
Had to have the giant poplar in our backyard cut down this week. Either that or wait for it to fall on my neighbour's house. Or mine. But it's old and was about four stories tall and would sway with just the slightest breeze - and its time had come. Meaning I had money in the bank to waste on something like a project like this. It was either that or blow the whole wad on new eavestroughs. And if the tree fell on my roof after that, well - where would I be then? Homeless, gutterless and treeless. Therefore, the tree had to go.
So we gathered the family around, reflected on what a fine tree it had been and thought of all the hours of shade it had provided us with. And then I said some sacred shit and buried an axe into its trunk as a symbolic way of saying 'Goodbye.' Then the tree-cutting company boys came in and did their work.
Today when you need a tree cut down, it's not like the old days when you get your friends and neighbours over for a tree-cutting party where everyone gets loaded and then scampers up the tree with chainsaws. Even with rope safety harnesses, I've seen too many severed limbs that way. And I don't mean tree limbs. A good rule of thumb for any home-improvement project is 'Chain-saws and drinking don't mix.'
So we hired in the professionals. And I gotta tell ya, it's an amazing spectacle to behold. These days it's all done with space-age technology. No one even actually climbs a tree and they don't even use ladders. Or chainsaws for that matter. The actual cutting is done from the ground using 'lasers.' A tree-cutting technician aims this 'laser' beam at the top of the tree and starts chopping off three-foot long pieces of trunk. To keep it from falling on your neighbour's car, the pieces are held in place by a 'force-field' device and then gently and slowly guided to the ground with some kind of 'ray.' Probably the same kind of free-energy principle used by Uncle Martin in My Favorite Martian when he moved objects around just by pointing his finger at them.
It's all impressive as heck but it kind of makes me nostalgic for the old days when some guy would climb up to the top of a tree and dig in with those boots with the pitchforks attached to the heels - and then start sawing away. Bit by bit in three-foot pieces until he reached the bottom.
Life is a lot like that sometimes isn't it? Sometimes we feel so 'big' that we end up just too above it all, with only the birds, the stars and giraffes for company. With our heads so deep in the clouds, we occassionally have to lop the whole top off to see more clearly. To see open sky again. To see The Big Picture. Or simply to see into the bedroom window of the couple who live behind us.
And occassionally, we just need someone to knock our block off so we don't make fools of ourselves over a bad decision. Sometimes it's best to be cut down to size before it's too late. Have there ever been times you felt that way? Are you listening, Joe Fontana?
All in all tho, I'll miss the old tree. It was but a youngster - and about 50-feet tall when Mavis and I moved in a bit more than a quarter-century ago. In the meantime, it has been home to squirrels and bees and finches. And copulating racoons. It's true. One night, Mavis and I heard a horrendous screeching like a cat being run over by a steam-roller in slow motion. After a minute of silence we looked out the upstairs bedroom window and there on the long extended horizontal branch were a couple of raccoons lounging, not a care in the world - and smoking cigarettes.
Over the years, that same branch has glowed with Christmas-tree lights and has helped provide the light source for back-yard evening soirees by holding up hanging Japanese lanterns and pinatas.
At various times, it has supported a traditional flat-panel one-seater double-rope swing; a Tarzan swinging rope and most recently, a good ol'fashioned Goodyear tire swing. ... Oh well, life goes on.
On the bright side, I timed it perfectly. No yard full of leaves to rake this fall. No back eavestrough to clean. (Points to head,) Always thinking.
So we gathered the family around, reflected on what a fine tree it had been and thought of all the hours of shade it had provided us with. And then I said some sacred shit and buried an axe into its trunk as a symbolic way of saying 'Goodbye.' Then the tree-cutting company boys came in and did their work.
Today when you need a tree cut down, it's not like the old days when you get your friends and neighbours over for a tree-cutting party where everyone gets loaded and then scampers up the tree with chainsaws. Even with rope safety harnesses, I've seen too many severed limbs that way. And I don't mean tree limbs. A good rule of thumb for any home-improvement project is 'Chain-saws and drinking don't mix.'
So we hired in the professionals. And I gotta tell ya, it's an amazing spectacle to behold. These days it's all done with space-age technology. No one even actually climbs a tree and they don't even use ladders. Or chainsaws for that matter. The actual cutting is done from the ground using 'lasers.' A tree-cutting technician aims this 'laser' beam at the top of the tree and starts chopping off three-foot long pieces of trunk. To keep it from falling on your neighbour's car, the pieces are held in place by a 'force-field' device and then gently and slowly guided to the ground with some kind of 'ray.' Probably the same kind of free-energy principle used by Uncle Martin in My Favorite Martian when he moved objects around just by pointing his finger at them.
It's all impressive as heck but it kind of makes me nostalgic for the old days when some guy would climb up to the top of a tree and dig in with those boots with the pitchforks attached to the heels - and then start sawing away. Bit by bit in three-foot pieces until he reached the bottom.
Life is a lot like that sometimes isn't it? Sometimes we feel so 'big' that we end up just too above it all, with only the birds, the stars and giraffes for company. With our heads so deep in the clouds, we occassionally have to lop the whole top off to see more clearly. To see open sky again. To see The Big Picture. Or simply to see into the bedroom window of the couple who live behind us.
And occassionally, we just need someone to knock our block off so we don't make fools of ourselves over a bad decision. Sometimes it's best to be cut down to size before it's too late. Have there ever been times you felt that way? Are you listening, Joe Fontana?
All in all tho, I'll miss the old tree. It was but a youngster - and about 50-feet tall when Mavis and I moved in a bit more than a quarter-century ago. In the meantime, it has been home to squirrels and bees and finches. And copulating racoons. It's true. One night, Mavis and I heard a horrendous screeching like a cat being run over by a steam-roller in slow motion. After a minute of silence we looked out the upstairs bedroom window and there on the long extended horizontal branch were a couple of raccoons lounging, not a care in the world - and smoking cigarettes.
Over the years, that same branch has glowed with Christmas-tree lights and has helped provide the light source for back-yard evening soirees by holding up hanging Japanese lanterns and pinatas.
At various times, it has supported a traditional flat-panel one-seater double-rope swing; a Tarzan swinging rope and most recently, a good ol'fashioned Goodyear tire swing. ... Oh well, life goes on.
On the bright side, I timed it perfectly. No yard full of leaves to rake this fall. No back eavestrough to clean. (Points to head,) Always thinking.
posted by Sonny Drysdale at 9:34 AM
2 Comments:
The job wiped out my bank account. Up till then, I was a thousandaire.
A lot of the wood hasn't been carted away yet and as of Saturday is still sitting in my front yard.
Help yourself, DT.
Yo Deep - I'm not much inta whittlin' these days - so borrow Orser's truck and hep yerself.
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