[Looking at history and our area’s unique political and religious attitudes.]
Tending the Garden is a term we use at the ranch when managing the forest and other natural events. This hearkens from the first humans who did not plant the Garden near Babylon, but were charged with tending the plants. Similarly, we did not plant the forest, which has been here long before Washington Irving tracked through the land and described the vegetation and terrain.
One afternoon this week, we removed seven large trees from our yard. The next day we doubled that number from our son-in-law’s yard. We have many, many more to remove from near other buildings and trails. How can anyone remove so many and yet the forest appears untouched? New trees constantly sprout and must be thinned. What are criteria for removing huge trees?
We follow three well accepted guidelines. First, the state forestry department recommends removing any trees within fifty feet of a structure. Think back to just a couple of months ago when forest fires destroyed hundreds of homes. Distance separation is critical, as is controlled burn of lower vegetation.
Equally important is fall distance. Any tree that grows tall enough to impact the houses or other buildings, if it should fall, is removed. How many trees or large limbs have you seen down from recent winds? We had many in the forest and across our roads and trails. Last week we had 73 mph straight winds and tornado alley is always subject to violent winds.
Third is aesthetics. Who wants to look at a dead tree in the yard? Since we are in the failure analysis business, that drives our way of thinking. Our son-in-law was commenting about how many fallen trees on houses he has investigated in the past year. In the process of the removals, we were trading observations about “what does dead mean?”
One tree that grew tall enough to potentially fall on our garage was removed. It was stately, well over fifty feet with a full set of leaves. When it hit the ground, it shattered. Literally, the upper half of the tree was held together by bark and was totally hollow. It looked good, gave good shade, was my aiming point for backing the truck into the garage, but it was rotten to the core.
One massive tree in his yard had totally dead limbs and no leaves this spring. When it was felled, the core was solid and beautiful, except for one subtle injury. Somewhere in the long distant past, someone had wrapped barbed-wire around the trunk. The tree grew and completely covered the barbed wire. However, on felling, the hidden infection had started at the barbed wire and spread to all the limbs. The seemingly insignificant damage did not show its results until years later.
Many trees with a little age have some level of internal decay, which weakens the structure. How do you determine weakness? Look for woodpecker holes, limbs with few leaves, and malformed small leaves.
How do you fell that many trees in a few days? One word, diesel. No electric energy was tasked for this rugged chore. Son-in-law was using a chainsaw, grandson was using an excavator to aid felling in a safe direction, and I was driving the bulldozer to drag trees to another location. Contrary to popular opinion, bulldozers are not necessarily huge power. Horsepower of an engine can deliver high torque or high speed, but not both. To get the torque needed to move a tree, the bulldozer is geared for a very low speed.
Son-in-law observed, ‘Living out here, there are a lot of chores, but seldom do they have to be done today.’ We try to operate on the third time is a charm principle. If you think about it, begin preparation, since it is likely something that should be done. If you think about it a second time, it is something that you should do, now. If you think about it a third time, that may be your last warning. Remembrance may not return. The trees in our yard had come to mind past the third time. Four had grown tall enough to be within fall distance, three were severely rotted waiting for just the right wind to topple. It was time. Procrastination is not your friend.
If you live in a neighborhood, you are not likely felling trees, but you have other chores that can turn catastrophic if not handled timely.
Perfect 5-star weather, working with son-in-law and grandson, driving heavy equipment, that is as good as it gets.
Think about it. Even the Garden of Eden needed tending. The rot needs clearing, even if not visible. If that still, quiet voice tells you that you should do something, there is a reason.