Letter From The Cabin 05-20-2018
Last fall I had confirmation that the three towering birches on the lakeside of the cabin were dying. In the spring no buds had developed. By fall I was fairly certain that were not likely to make it through the harsh winter. The November winds are particularly hard on aged birch trees which often have death seeded in the center and topple over in strong winds. These trees were shedding large branches not unlike a buck shedding his stately rack during midwinter.
In my sleep I had a dire premonition that one of these hulking giants would fall on my cabin, crashing through the timbers, and demolishing my lovely camp. Not really a very pleasant premoniton, I might add.
I had appreciated these trees over many seasons. Though not as stately as the towering white pines that still exist in areas of the Upper Peninsula, nevertheless trees, provided a sense of solace. They would end up as firewood now and offer another type of warmth.
I knew that these birch trees needed to come down and got out my chainsaw and winch. The trees leaned awkwardly toward the cabin and would make for a dangerous felling. I had to emotionally brace myself for the unpleasant task at hand.
My son and I tightened up the cable from the winch to an adjacent tree. This anchor would help the falling birch tree fall away from the cabin. I considered this arrangement a safety measure against a ill-made notch. Seth tightened up the winch as I made the front notch. Carefully, I cut the back of the tree with a well placed slit. Seth hurriedly tightend up the winch as the tree leaned precariously almost rebelling against the inevitable. It came crashing down, safely where we had wanted it to lay. We fell the other two trees without an incident.
A week after the beautiful birch trees were felled a surging wind storm ripped through the area. A neighbor’s tree fell across his trailer crashing the roof. My advice is to give premonitons due diligence. Till next time.
Hilton Everett Moore