During the “Southeastern deluge” last weekend, half of a Bradford Pear tree in my backyard gave way beneath the weight of four inches of rain and 25+mph wind gusts. The weekend was miserable and as I was woken at 4am Sunday morning by the cracking and resounding thump of a falling tree, the promise of extra work during the upcoming week made the weekend a bit more miserable.
I crawled out of bed at the sound of the tree falling, grabbed a flashlight and sloshed around a slightly flooded backyard to survey the damage. After discovering which tree snapped I immediately became thankful for multiple things. The Bradford Pear in question was the one positioned adjacent to the chicken coup. The half of the tree that fell was the side facing the house, which meant that it fell away from the chicken coup. Now, usually I wouldn’t be too thrilled about part of a tree falling toward my house - especially since it fell toward my bedroom window - but the tree is far enough away from the house to do any damage. Also, again luckily, the front half fell with the wind at an angle toward a small stretch of woods that borders the right side of my property. The only thing I was immediately concerned about was the chain link fence that lines the perimeter of the backyard, but it also made it through the ordeal unscathed. So that was two pluses checked off the list of possible casualties.
There is also a vegetable garden next to the tree, which did get clipped at the bottom-most edge but also escaped unscathed for the most part (just a little chicken wire fence damage, but that was easily straightened out). The only things that were damaged in the fall were the backside of another Bradford Pear, a regular pear tree and a bird feeder. Lucky really is about the only word I can continue to say about the whole ordeal. Daisy seemed to enjoy the fallen canopy of branches and thick, broad leaves as she weaved her way through the maze of limbs and slept beneath the curtain of leaves like a child beneath a blanket fort.
Yesterday, I finally finished the process of sawing away the seemingly infinite mass of limbs and small branches, and also sawed through the thickest part of the main branch dislodging it from the trunk. I took a picture of the resulting chainsaw massacre, but I wish I would have taken a picture or two of the fallen tree. There was also a new chainsaw bought for the occasion: a green 14” Poulan, which I affectionately named The Green Hornet. Hopefully I will not have to make use of The Green Hornet for a while, but if I do we will be ready to lumberjack like nobody’s business.
Above is the aftermath of my chainsaw massacre. I swear, afterward I was covered in sweat, sawdust and victory. I felt like the lovechild of an Old Spice and Dr. Pepper 10 commercial.