Relative Something

I’m beginning to think the universe is trying to tell us something via large trees crashing to the ground. For the third time in an uncharacteristically short number of weeks (and the second time that I have been able to witness it with my own eyes), a massive compound limb snapped from its trunk and smashed to the ground. This time, it was an oak tree.

What did we do to deserve this? Cyndie and I were walking Asher first thing in the morning when, just to our left, the cracking sound started without any obvious trigger. It wasn’t windy. The huge portion of the tree simply cracked off and smothered everything it landed on with a dramatic, clamorous thrashing.

I didn’t have it in me to spend the day cutting it up, so we ignored it for the rest of the day, but it’s blocking one of our paths through the woods and will need to be dealt with eventually.

When I think about the number of trees that I have recently tented beneath without knowing a thing about the health of the branches above me, this gives me pause. We had no reason to suspect this oak of ours was at risk.

We are both still marveling over the fact that we were standing right there to witness it as it fell.

I don’t know what lesson I should be taking from these trees crashing to the ground lately, but it is getting a little creepy. It’s also getting a little less calming to take long ‘forest bathing’ walks through our trees.

Since things commonly happen in threes, we are hoping this will be the end of whatever exercise this is that has us cutting up limbs and branches with chainsaws.

When we bought this property twelve and a half years ago, I had no idea how much work it would be to tend to the forested acres. The more time I spend in these woods, the more I learn about how often trees and branches fall to the ground for a variety of mysterious reasons.

I never expected so many of them to be this darned big.

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