We had a big tree taken down this week.
Back in December an unusually fierce windstorm uprooted this ash tree. It stood for decades on the highest line of our land, inches below the road. But high winds finally uprooted it, skewing it downslope, where it was caught by a nearby maple tree.
There the ash stood (or leaned), a massive thing tilted 45 degrees, barely balanced, and pointing downhill towards our house. It had to go.
There's a terrible sadness to the fall of such old trees.
Next? We will store the wood to dry.
1 comment:
Beechwood fires are bright and clear,
If the logs are kept a year.
Chestnut's only good, they say,
If for long it's laid away.
Make a fire of elder tree,
Death within your house shall be.
But ash new or ash old
Is fit for a queen with a
crown of gold.
Birch and fir logs burn too fast,
Blaze up bright and do not last.
It is by the Irish said,
Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread.
Elm wood burns like
churchyard mold,
E'en the flames are cold.
But ash green or ash brown
Is fit for a queen with a
golden crown.
Poplar gives a bitter smoke,
Fills your eyes and makes you choke.
Applewood will scent your room
With an incense-like perfume.
Oaken logs if dry and old,
Keep away the winter's cold.
But ash new or ash old
Is fit for a queen with
a crown of gold.
~Anonymous~
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