Back at Frogpond, Bruce and I have been hard at work clearing out the dead trees that are falling over at artistic angles on the dam. Two years of drought have done their work, and most of cottonwoods and willows gave up the ghost last summer. It's a mess out there -- falling, rotting trees amidst a sea of poison oak and wild blackberry brambles.
I suppose it isn't exactly accurate to say that Bruce and I were the only ones struggling to clean up the mess. We had help. Lots.
Max came down and sat on just about anything he could plant his butt on.
Chance chewed on tiny sticks like crazy. We were grateful. Really.
He also helped carry branches. Sort of. Murphy just watched on the sidelines. We were grateful for that too.
We also had the geese intermittently supervising from the water.
We sawed, dragged, pulled, carried and pruned for three days.
We were moderately proud of our progress, even though we knew we had a long, long ways to go. But we were making headway, plus it just felt good to be outside working, surrounded by the things we love.
Another storm hit late last night and went on throughout today. There was more rain; this time accompanied by strong winds. When I got home from school this afternoon, this was waiting for me. Up and down the dam, more trees had decided to lie down.
Can dead trees smirk???
It may be time to throw in the towel and call a tree service to finish the job.