mysterious hieroglyphics

Sunday night reading in bed, I heard a thunderous roar of a crowd of Amish youth,  after the singing at the next door neighbors,some walking past our house, some at a distance.  A primal scream?  A ritual of that gang's leaving after a day of volleyball and singing by gas lanterns?

Today a silvery marking on the zelkova tree caught my eye.  Youth on a rampage marking territory, or doing graffiti?  Some ancient spirit writing hieroglyphics as a warning, as a sign.  Or, a lost snail confused about which way is up in the dark. Or two snails' courtship, leaving their slime which in sunshine turns visible.

All speculation.

"a poem as lovely as a tree"

What does a tree look like?  Depends where and when you look.  Here is a piece of a tree which served as a shingle over my head for 25 years until a wind blew it off.

"a poem lovely as a tree"

Moving right along, leaving the shrew behind....

When the bill came I wondered what you'd have to pay me to climb a tree some 20-degree day, and, with nothing more than a leather strap between me and a broken back, start trimming.  Probably a bit more than these arborists who did a good job.  Trees really enhance life and are poetic to people who like Kilmer's poem, one of the few that I memorized.  It's short and rhymes.

guarding the grid

After a week at Mt. Gretna enjoying surround-sound tree environment, I woke the next day to a chain saw trimming the white pine so it does not break the wires of the power grid.  I'm okay with that, as long as the tree remains.  Far right are tips of branches of the pin oak we planted 15 years ago or so.  The orange truck blocks the farmer's lane.

chain saw at work

This morning a neighbor is bringing down two maples.

wood--split and sawed

Here's a pile of wood Ryan and I split. The front porch got a new roof yesterday of sawed cedar shingles. The shingles we removed had been on the roof for over 60 years. These news ones should last just as long. By then, the tree cut to make them will have been replaced. That's green in my book.

timber!

Lincoln was shot on this April day in 1865. Today I lost a tree, one that started out as a Christmas tree. The arborists were here for maintenance. If I were a bird or a squirrel it would feel worse than loosing a good president.

flower on a tree?

Yeah. It's called tulip poplar. I planted one 15 years ago. It's about 25 feet high. The lowest flower is eight feet above the ground. I'm loving it because I usually miss the flower because the garden takes my free time when they bloom.

grandpa's two-man saw fells oak

L. to R. below--Ryan, me, Joel, and Milton gathered today to bring down the oak. It never truly lived since it left the nursery. It must have suffered poisoning at the contruction site before we got it for free. For two years I had hope. My father's two-man saw takes it down and then slices the trunk into short logs. Think of that, cutting up a tree without any imported materials such as gas! Then it was hot chocolate with marshmallows in the kitchen.

heavy equipment on Eby Road

Looks like big time operation in Monterey. Standing on the road at the triangle tip of the property, here's what I saw this morning.

To keep the trees healthy "green," major surgery. That's in front of the house that won the Monterey Christmas light contest.

Here's the question: how many tree years will it take to offset the petrol carbs being burned up to ensure more tree years?