My Trees, Part II

I am happy to report that the loggers pulled out.

They left behind a mess.

My view my window went from this in the spring:



To this in summer:



To this, which is pretty much what it looks like now, except that the leaves on the dead branches are dying.



They left the trees that had no value. The remaining two oaks forked and so were not good sawmill logs. I am thankful they did not cut them for pulp wood like they did so many others. At least I still have a tree to see, although I worry that it will die without its friends to help protect it from the weather.

Though the loggers call this "selective" cutting, by the time more than 250 trees were murdered, the selectiveness of it is pretty much semantics. The loggers left the Paradise trees and small trees. They also left a stand of poplars because bees had built nests in them.

Hooray for the bees.

I have no idea how many animals were displaced, all the squirrels who lost their homes and winter stores, the owls and birds and chipmunks and other creatures.

Not to mention all those mythical gnomes and fairies that I was sure lived in enchanted areas. They are gone too, off to find a new home where the sounds of chainsaws do not make raucous racket.

I am sure the air has grown thicker and more polluted just in recent days. And the sounds around my home are stronger; I can hear neighbors in distant subdivisions. The other night I heard The Star Spangled Banner from the Botetourt Sports Complex waft across as clear as if I were standing in the stadium.

Sounds I had not heard before.

I am glad they left a few trees, but the environmental damage has certainly sickened my soul.