A Tree Falls in Minocqlyn

So there are drawbacks to being a semi-recluse, I discovered this weekend.

We had a huge, cracking thunderstorm Friday before I left for work, so bad that my big "tough" dogs lept on the bed with me ("huh? what's that NOISE? Woof.") The brave one, Baci, actually started "growling back" at the storm as it moved off. But I was surprised and pleased that the electricity stayed on without interruption and nothing seemed to be amiss as I got ready for work, put the dogs out, and took off down the road to work.

It was really hot on Friday and was due to be even hotter on Saturday, and, since I don't go into town after Thursday (because of the t(err)ourists), generally, I was all set up for the weekend with dvds and soda and food and such. I had also been battling the summer cold from hell and was determined to not have one minute of discomfort all Saturday. So I hermetically sealed myself inside the house with the a/c blasting (for the dogs of course!) and watched old "Degrassi Junior High" dvds.

A great day. Then came Sunday, which was just as hot, but in which I had to get the garbage out to the end of the driveway and go into town to get an a/c filter and other stuff. So Sunday morning, I walked out to the driveway and saw, behind my truck and my car, that a HUGE White Pine had come down on the driveway and taken a birch and a couple of aspens with it. It was so massive - as big as a moving van – that at first I didn't know what to think. I moved some miscellaneous branches out of the way so I could get the garbage bin by, then when I came back, I moved other branches so I could get my little car out.

I wasn't sure what had happened. I looked up about four stories high and saw that what was on my driveway was the top of a huge tree that had either been hit by lightning or been blown off by the wind the day before. The exposed pith where it had come off was a scar as big as a large man. I was just astounded that something this big and seemingly sturdy had been cut down in its prime by nature. We think of nature as only taking the weak, as culling the unhealthy from the herd or forest or population, but this was proof positive that this was not the case. I couldn't look at the downed tree anymore because it was actually making me extremely sad.

Even on Monday, when I got back from work, after I had arranged to have the tree cut up and hauled away at the end of the week, I was floored at what a waste of beauty this was. On Sunday the needles were still sprung out like it was drinking up the sun, and pulling up nutrition from its trunk. By Monday evening the needles were already wilting, closing like a person's dying hands, as if it had given up hope. Or accepted its fate. It was still very hard to look at this fallen mastadon of the forest. I took a small branch from it to put in my living room.

I can't wait until my chainsaw-wielding friend comes this weekend, cuts it up into manageable pieces. and hauls it away to use in his outdoor wood burner. It will be comforting to know that it is helping heat humans this coming winter.