Posts Tagged ‘fallen tree’
Lotta Tree
It happened again. This time, the big willow tree by Cyndie’s perennial garden lost a third of its trunk when the added water weight from the more than 2 inches of rainfall brought down the section with the most lean.
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To make clean-up more interesting, it dropped into one of the more hearty patches of poison ivy on our property. Generally, we avoid setting foot anywhere the poison ivy grows. Yesterday, with a heavy dew soaking everything, we found ourselves up to our elbows in poison ivy. I fell down into it once when a branch I was tugging on broke free. Cyndie got splashed in the eye by moisture from the mix of ivy and tree leaves as she pulled branches out of the tangled mess.
It will be a miracle if one of us doesn’t break out in a rash in the next few days. We vigorously washed with special soap and tossed our clothes aside for segregated laundering.
I worked my way into the now-horizontal crown of the tree with the big chainsaw, being careful to avoid cutting something that was under tension that would either pinch the blade or shift the heavy trunk. When I had cut as much as I could reach, it became clear I would need to get the pole saw.
After I had removed as much of the weight as possible from the extended limbs, I started in on the biggest parts of the trunk. At one point, a trip up to the shop garage was required to get a pry bar to roll the beast so I could finish cuts. Throughout the entire effort, which consumed our whole day, we only needed to wrestle free the pinched chainsaw blade three times.
It seemed a little unfair that we were doing this again so soon after wrangling the fallen maple tree in the backyard. It was doubly worse because of the added hazards of poison ivy everywhere we worked. However, the saddest part about the timing of all this was that it was Cyndie’s birthday. Cutting up and tossing branches was not the spa day she would have preferred.
That was a lot of tree to process. We put all three sizes of our STIHL chainsaws to good use on the relatively soft wood. Man, that battery-powered trimmer saw is a handy tool for pruning branches.
Our priority of getting that work done was related to the fact that we are heading up to the lake today for the weekend with Cyndie’s mom, Marie. After the big physical effort to get through all that tree, we are looking forward to a few days of R & R on Big Round Lake.
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Early Test
The shade sail had barely been up for 24 hours when a line of thunderstorms closed in and weather watches and warning alarms started pinging our phones. As the wild-looking radar scans reached our area, I stepped outside to see if the sky looked as spooky as the Doppler readings and warning boxes on our screens. Rain had started to fall, but I was outside during an early pause in the precipitation.
When I came back inside, it was announced that our county was under a tornado warning for the next half hour. Did we run to the basement? No. We were hardly getting any rain, and there was very little wind. The sky seemed to be getting lighter instead of the expected threatening darkness.
When the line of storms had moved beyond us and all the warnings had expired, we went out for a walk. The asphalt of our driveway beneath the trees wasn’t even wet. Not only did we dodge a severe storm, but we didn’t even get enough rain to water our plants. We thought it was going to be a big test for the new canopy in the paddock. A thunderstorm wasn’t the test.
Behind this line of storms, we got slammed with heavy, gusting winds. Serious gusts. Suddenly, I heard the distinctive sounds of wood cracking and raced to look out our back doors to witness the top of one of our big maple trees crash to the ground in a cloud of shredding branches and leaves. Wind gusts were reported around 40mph.
The tornado didn’t materialize, but we still suffered the loss of a big tree. So many maple leaves that just popped open in the last week, snuffed out in an instant.
We went for a walk to check on the shade sail. It was holding its own amid the gusts.
I took some pictures showing more details of the turnbuckles we are using to anchor the canopy and how we ran the eyebolts diagonally through the corners of the posts.
Here is a shot from Wednesday showing the level of shade the canopy provides in the hot part of the afternoon. The old willow tree never offered that amount of solid UV protection in its heyday.
Speaking of the old willow, I noticed the other day that it is refusing to give up entirely.
I don’t think it will be offering much in the way of shade this summer, but it is probably making a statement about what it thinks of the new shade-maker taking its place.
First thing yesterday morning, we finished reconnecting the electric fence and took down the temporary barrier between the two paddocks, which gave the horses access to the automatic waterer again.
I’ve been waiting a long time to get that stretch of wood fence standing straight up again. It’s very rewarding to see.
Throughout the evening, I frequently checked on the canopy through our surveillance camera down at the barn as the wind continued to blow. It was definitely being pushed down or puffed up at different times, but not in a way that looked worrisome.
Since I’ve heard from several people with shade sails that they leave them up in the wind, I’m feeling less skittish about taking our chances with it.
Yesterday was a pretty dramatic first test. So far, so good.
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Weather Pummeling
Our region took a pummeling from Momma Nature yesterday with high winds pushing some heavy rain sideways. I was on an errand to Baldwin to seek advice from my tractor dealership and pulled over to capture some photos of the wild sky.
With winds gusting into the 40s (mph), the bottom of the cloud cover was getting whipped into undulating waves.
Knowing it was past due time to change the engine oil of the New Holland diesel tractor, I pulled the manual to check other recommended periodic maintenance. I quickly felt overwhelmed by the list of tasks I had no knowledge or experience doing.
It didn’t take long for the Service Manager to convince me to spend some of my savings and have them do the dirty work. He had me at, “We have time to start on it early next week.”
On the way home, I stopped off to take advantage of ‘Discount Tuesday’ at the movie theater to see the four military-embedded journalists race against time to reach DC in the 2024 film, “Civil War.” I sure hope that version of a possible future for the country remains a fabrication for film and has no relationship with an eventual reality.
I returned home in the nick of time to help Cyndie tend to the horses amid the rain and wicked gales. Being immersed in the fictional world for a couple of hours had me rather disoriented in coping with the wild conditions that were turning feeding time into something of a circus that seemed to fit well with the on-screen chaos I’d just consumed.
Cyndie reported some new chaos across one of our trails through the woods.
If that is the only tree that topples under these conditions, I will be surprised. By dinner time last night, we had received over an inch of rain as measured in the gauges Cyndie remembered to put out earlier in the day.
Our soils are saturated and that makes high-wind days that much more effective at tipping tall trees.
One blessing we thoroughly appreciate is that Asher demonstrates zero stress over lightning and thunder. That’s not something I taught him. He showed up with that trait. I need to remember that gift alone should earn him a pass on other behaviors of his I find myself regretting.
Our dog staying calm during a pummeling storm contributes greatly to our quality of life.
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Impressive Overachievement
It’s been over two weeks since Asher and I discovered a fallen tree leaning across one of our trails in the woods. At the time, Cyndie was in Florida and I needed to wait for her to get home before bringing out the big chainsaw –a tool I’ve agreed to never use when home alone– to clear the path.
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Alas, this many days later and I’ve allowed myself to disregard that project. In my way of thinking, I should get out the Grizzly ATV and hook up the trailer to haul the saw into the woods and carry the wood back out. Then, I realized I should be resting my shoulder to allow it to better heal, and holding the big saw seemed a bit much.
I decided the tree could hang there for a while since it was easy enough to duck under. It is unsurprisingly easy for me to put off chores for some other time.
With our continued dry weather and the forest as dormant as ever, each time we walk around in there I spot another vine to be removed from smothering one of our trees. Cutting down vines takes a lot less effort since I can easily hand-carry the trusty Stihl mini chainsaw on walks with Asher.
I remembered to grab it yesterday to cut out another gigantic woody grapevine that I’ve walked past countless times and somehow ignored until now. I didn’t even try to pull it out of the tree. Just cut out a six-foot section of it and carried on with following Asher along the path.
Then we came upon the tree leaning across the trail. Hmm. Mini saw in hand. Fully charged battery. Could it handle a job this size?
Yes, yes that little branch pruner could. You may notice there were already a number of cut sections of fallen trees on the ground in that spot. For now, I cleared the pathway and left the freshly cut pieces on the pile.
Asher became fixated anew on whatever the heck might have been living in the dirt under all the chunks of wood.
Our dog is tenacious when it comes to digging for critters, but that Stihl GTA 26 is an even more impressive overachiever.
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Feeling Privileged
Waking to news that a new armed attack has occurred, unprecedented in its scale, between Israel and Palestine is an unsettling start to the day. I cherish every moment that there are no military battles occurring where I live. Logic would reveal that none of us are immune to unrest that can erupt anywhere at any time, but I feel privileged for the decades I’ve lived free of armed conflicts.
There is no comparison to threats to human life but yesterday we came upon a scene of destruction in the labyrinth that shocked us. It’s wild to discover evidence of an incident we hadn’t seen coming.
That tree broke in so many places when it struck the rocks it must have made quite a sound. It surely would have been shocking if we had been nearby when it fell.
Another thing that has me feeling especially privileged is how easily I was able to get flu and COVID-19 booster shots. Last weekend, Cyndie worked the web and found herself an appointment in Red Wing, MN after learning our local clinic did not have stock of the COVID vaccine yet.
Our clinic in River Falls thought they would have more by Thursday or Friday. As I was driving to town yesterday to pick up a battery I had ordered from an auto parts store, I realized I had forgotten to call the clinic. Since it was just down the street from where I was, I decided to just stop and ask in person about the status of their vaccines.
“Yes, we have the vaccines,” the receptionist told me. “Would you like to make an appointment?”
I responded in the affirmative.
“Are you available today?”
Affirmative.
After a minute or two of simple questions and her typing and clicking, she said, “You can take a seat and someone will come for you shortly.”
A few minutes later I had my shots and was back in the lobby for a 15-minute wait to ensure I suffered no allergic reaction.
How come that was so easy? What did I do to earn such royal service? No hoops to jump through, no days of waiting, and no out-of-pocket expenses.
One guess I have is that showing up in person helped to pave the way, but she could have told me any day in the coming week and I would have accepted that.
Whatever it was that contributed to my good luck, I recognize the privilege I enjoy to live where I do and have access to the services readily available to me.
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Disinformation Averse
I assume that no one intends to become misinformed but it sure seems like there are a lot of people with a propensity to gobble up disinformation like it was candy. Speaking of candy, has it become universally recognized yet that early health campaigns by the sugar industry weren’t on the up and up when it came to weight gain?
Those of us (me) at Relative Something do our (my) best to avoid spreading false information and always avoid using algorithms to direct my most outrageous posts to the forefront. There are no angry emoji’s added to trigger more engagement and keep eyes on these pages for the sole purpose of gorging on profits.
While I will admit to occasionally enhancing reality when it comes to tales involving our amazing wonderdog, Delilah, I strive to describe our Wintervale adventures with utmost accuracy.
Like that giant tree that slammed to the ground across one of our trails yesterday.
It must have made an enormous crashing sound that probably worried our neighbors, if any of them were out. I love that Cyndie described the location as “cow corner” when she texted me the photo. This is near the one corner of our property where four different owners’ fence lines meet and the pasture diagonal to our land is home to a good-sized herd of cows.
I try not to get tangled in the ongoing, always see-sawing debates over whether coffee is good or bad for health, or eating eggs every day, or one glass of red wine, or reading in low light or on a lighted mobile device. Should gerrymandering be allowed or not? Is pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps really a viable fix for what ails us? Does hypocrisy in a politician reveal a flaw in their trustworthiness? Is the uncontrolled urge to scroll social media apps detrimental to our healthy productivity?
It all depends on who is financing the research, no?
If U.S. lawmakers somehow actually succeed in getting our wealthy citizens to pay a reasonable share of taxes, will it be rich people who have the greatest say in where the funds will be used?
Luckily, there is no confusion about the logic of vaccinating or the risks of uncontrolled burning of fossil fuels for decades on end.
Those topics are totally disinformation averse. Yeah, no. -_-
You can trust me to be genuine because I know how to make things up that don’t bring me political power or financial gain.
Unbelievable, I know. Like how I needed to risk my fingers prying Delilah’s jaw open to force her to give up the shard of bone she found from what was left of that deer leg as we were about to depart from the lake. Suddenly my hands –all fingers intact– were covered with a stink that triggers a gag reflex and the water had just been shut off in the cabin.
Some things I write actually happened.
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Snag Down
The inevitable has occurred and the snag we left standing inside the small paddock after cutting back the dead limbs almost five years ago has now fallen to the ground.
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It had a good run as a scratching post. After the recent discovery that it had been pushed into a noticeable lean by horses rubbing against it, I did some pushing of my own to assess the status of its integrity. It was still too solid for me to be able to push the rest of the way over, but it did move back into a fully upright position, so I left it.
Yesterday morning, Cyndie found it looking like this:
Over text messages, we discussed what to do with it. She said it is too heavy to move without dragging with the tractor or sawing into pieces. I suggested we could leave it in place for a while to provide a little intrigue for the horses to investigate.
We don’t know which horse might have been responsible for knocking it over or whether others were in the vicinity at the time. None of them showed any signs of having suffered a close encounter with falling tree trunks. I’m wondering if they might enjoy gnawing on it a little bit.
It looks kinda cool lying there. I like the thought of the horses adapting to something new happening in their midst, adjusting to the change, and hopefully exploring the interesting shaped object now on the ground.
Cyndie spotted Swings and Mix doing just that later in the day.
I did a visual scan for future comparison to observe whether they take an interest in chewing on it. If they soon appear to be ignoring it, we will likely cut it up and split the logs for firewood before the whole thing rots.
As my good friend, Steve Reynolds has been know to declare, standing dead trees are just verticle firewood storage. Now that it’s no longer standing, I best not neglect it for too long.
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Relative Something 