Another sunshine tree

Why, you ask would someone post a photo of empty sky? Read on.

"Take my love take the my land; take me where I can not stand; I don’t care, I’m still free; you can't take the sky from me." — Joss Whedon, "Firefly" theme song.

Rationalizing firewood as the endless chore resumes for another season.

     For 30 years out here I selected the trees I would use for firewood carefully. I searched the woods for blow-downs or standing dead even though I ended up at times with a long haul to the cabin.

     Then one day two years ago when firewood time came around again I had another thought. I had just taken a photo of Denali, once again through the upper branches and twigs of a large birch tree. That was the moment when the rationalization began. I'd put up with that tree in the way of my photos for all this time, maybe now was the time to remove it. Also crossing my mind was my most recent birthday turning 74 and thinking if I started now cutting trees closer to the house I'd be dead before it made the slightest dent in the health or aesthetics of this forest. The tree came down.The next year, last year, I took my usual seat on the porch in March to enjoy the sun. As it moved across the sky, the air began to cool as the sun moved into the tangle of branches in another huge birch tree, this one less that 50 feet away. I took that one down too and added an hour to the time the porch enjoys bright direct sunlight.

 Now, last year's cut extended the end of the sun's arc across the porch. Looking in the opposite direction I spotted one at the beginning of the arc even closer to the cabin. Today it went down. That's what the photo of the sky is all about. That used to be filled with birch twigs. This one, though, besides adding to the sun on the porch has another benefit.

     After watching the moon last night, and noting the times given by a local amateur astronomer I realized the eclipse of the moon this Sunday will reach the total phase as it crosses that open space. If I had hestitated some before, that cemented the fate of the tree in my mind. I will do my best to make it worthwhile with a good photograph, a memorial if you will, to that stalwart elder statesman of the forest.

     There's another one nearby that probably will be next, along with a standing dead spruce in the same little grove. All within about 50 feet of the cabin. I'm not cutting any of the huge spruce around here because I've noticed that's where the chickadees huddle up for the night, or fly into them escaping predators. An aside observaton: I've notcied once I drop a birch tree, the chickadees gather in the upper branchs where apparently they are finding something to eat, perhaps developing seeds.

     And so it begins. I put the splits from one round cut from the trunk under the house just to complete one cycle from cutting to stacking, more wood put back than I have burned today. That's my usual daily goal, twice as much put into the stacks as I take out for a day's heat.

Growing old gracefully - in the Alaska sunshine