The Passing of the Pine Tree

As I stood by the window and looked out on the frozen world that had grown more frigid with the passing hours, I wondered which would be the next limb to break from the weight of the slowly accumulating ice. A half dozen limbs had already crashed down on the deck from the soft and willowy river birch. It’s top limbs are easy targets during winter storms and are generally the first to succumb to the added weight of the ice and snow. This was the third major winter storm of the season and it was the first week of March. It has surely been a long winter.

 

   As I watched from the second story window I noticed that the long needle pine in the back yard had a definite lean. It had always been a vigorous and healthy tree, growing to a present height of forty feet in only fifteen years. Noting the ever increasing angle, I thought to myself, “If that keeps up, that pine will surely fall”.

   As if on cue, in super slow motion and noiselessly, like a silent movie in stark black and white, the tree laid down gently on the nearby chain link fence and jammed several limbs deep into the frozen ground. Effortlessly the giant uprooted from the ice accumulation on the upper boughs and permanently sealed its death in silent majesty. Part of the top limbs fell into the neighbor’s driveway and I immediately knew I had to clear it for his car to be able to get out.

 

   I waited for a few hours for the ice storm to pass and for the temperature to rise a bit. I only had a bow saw and some long handled shrub snips, but after about an hour, Cheryl and I had cleared his driveway and decided that the remaining limbs were too large for the bow saw and we could wait for the ice to thaw.

   Things got busy at work the next week and I decided that it could wait a little longer. Cheryl and I did go out and clear some more limbs off the neighbor’s side and with the aid of my eight-foot step ladder, I sawed off as many limbs as I could reach. We dragged them all up to the curb and piled them up for the city to pick up. Due to the massive ice storm, the city had relaxed the rules and allowed for everyone to just dump their broken limbs and trees next to the curb without being bundled.

   Without a chainsaw, I knew that I could never get the tree trunk cut up. It had been a couple of weeks and I began searching for a chainsaw. Home Depot and Lowes were sold out, also Walmart and Sears as I next learned. I found one eight inch electric chain saw, but other than that, every chainsaw in the county was already sold. As you drove the streets of the city, almost every yard had piles of broken limbs and trees lining their yards. I was about to give up when a friend of mine offered to come over with his friend and help me finish the job. I told him that I was still looking for a chainsaw, but I would call him if I needed him.

   Two more weeks passed and I was very busy or the weather was bad, then my friend called again and offered to help on the following weekend.  The city came by the next morning and with a lift truck picked up all the limbs that were curbside. Cheryl checked on line and determined that they would be back within the next couple of weeks so I invited my friends over to help.

   Najo was a master with the saw; he wielded the sixteen-inch Husqvarna like a Jedi with a light sabre. Within an hour the tree had been efficiently cut into three foot sections and he was cutting the limbs down to manageable size. Nebo and I stayed busy hauling the limbs and trunk pieces to the curb. In an hour and a half, the work was finished and the curb had been refilled. Without my friends help, I would still be hauling limbs and I would probably have injured myself in the process. I managed to scratch my right arm twice with sticky pine limbs and I noticed that neither of my friends had a mark on them.

   I offered to pay them for their help but they refused. We gave them some of Cheryl’s southern iced tea and she gave them a piece of freshly baked sour cream pound cake, just out of the oven. They were not born in America, they immigrated from Bosnia/Serbia and now they are American citizens. They are thankful to be here, to have the opportunity for a better life and they are willing to work for themselves or others. They have genuine hearts and they have a generous spirit to share with others. They were humble and they did a service for me that will always be appreciated.

   Life is like that, you roll along and don’t need anything from anyone, then circumstances beyond your control take over and you are suddenly in need of help. You don’t have the tools and you are too old to do it by yourself. You need a friend, who has a friend, who has the tools and they are much younger than you. They even want to help because they believe in helping others. Moments like these are rare in these times, but none-the–less refreshing.   

To be honest, I never liked that pine tree; I just hate to cut down a living tree. I let it grow and then God took it down, without a sound and ever so gently. I intend to plant a garden where it stood. It is one of the few spots in the backyard that has enough sunshine. I wonder if Najo has a garden tiller?  I bet they would like some fresh vegetables.