Beltane Full Last Frost Moon
Instead of opening Ovid this morning, I opened the garage doors and took out the chain saw. Checked the chain oil, thick almost like grease. Added some. Filled a measured quantity of oil in a squeeze bottle, poured into the one gallon gas can, added a gallon of fresh gas, shook the can and put the gas oil mixture in the chain saw. With the choke out full, I put my toe through the handle, pressing the saw firmly onto the driveway, grabbed the pull and yanked up. Sputter. Pulled again. Nothing. Pushed the choke half way in, yanked again and that ear-splitting racket that pierces homes and exurban silence whined to life.
With the exception of one cedar trunk I’ve now downed, limbed and cut into smaller sections all of the damage from last November’s early, heavy snow. The large cedar tree just off our deck is the only tree I’ll miss. We nurtured it from a small shrub into a magnificent tree. Though I’ll miss its 17 year journey with us, it does open up a lot of sun for the vegetable garden. It would have been strategic to cut it down years ago, but it was a friend.
When I finished limbing the first cedar trunk, my arms grew tired. I quit. No using chain saws when tired. Flesh and bone pose no obstacle to these tree fellers.
