Episode 104: Risky Business As I grow older, I avoid some of the
adventures that made life exciting in my youth. I hire someone to remove a limb
from a tree or repair my roof. When I do work from a ladder, I double check
that it is secure. But I still ride my bike on busy streets and hike into the
wilderness when I can. All of life is risky but we need to keep our courage.
This is a story from the time just before I retired.
We used a small chain saw to make the notch and the first
cut in the back. Throughout the operation we ready to run because the tree was
dead and probably rotten in the center and it leaned perhaps 10 degrees from
vertical. It talked to us quite a bit as the chain saw made its way through the
trunk. After the saw had done all it could reach, there was still over one foot
of wood untouched and no sign that the tree was ready to fall. Then we got a
two-man saw and began to really sweat. Both of us had a healthy respect for the
power of that tree. The saw was only six feet long and would not allow a full
cut. We were perched on the edge of the bank on an improvised platform. When
the tree swayed or cracked, we ran along our escape route without a backward
glance. We ran and returned many times before the tree began to move.
I remember that moment of fear and relief and exhaustion.
The air was clean and fresh. The woodlot was full of the sounds and smells of
nature and the dreadful swishing of the falling tree. It seemed to be falling
as planned but in those few seconds we moved out as fast as possible. When we
were totally clear we were able to turn and watch the final crash into the
lower trees and the hillside. The top of the dead tree shattered into bits and
the butt jumped backward on the stump stabbing our platforms into the mud. The
earth shook and the crash seemed to roll down the little valley for a long
time.
When all was still, I climbed up onto the stump and
clambered onto the trunk itself as it rested across the gulch and along the
hill. The bark was slippery but I inched upward until the lower branches came
within reach and then walked up to the very top with the woodpecker holes and
splinters. Everything had gone as planned. After a brief celebration we settled
down to cutting and splitting the trunk and then hauling the bolts up the hill.
This process took several weeks and George did most of the work by himself. The
shingles are now stacked in his garage awaiting the completion of the roof on
his country cabin.
We, or at least I, was never sure we could do this job but
like many other tasks I have undertaken I wanted to try and when we did
succeed, I felt that I knew more about myself and about George. I felt like a
better person for having accepted the risk involved- the physical danger and
the possible failure of nerve or strength and subsequent humiliation.
I am used to being the more adventurous partner and it
made me nervous when George wanted to move farther and faster than I was
prepared for, But courage like fear is contagious and after talking it over I
decided to help him with his project, I am grateful to George for the
opportunity to engage with the big tree and turn it into a useful product.
George
and I worked together in a rehabilitation center for injured workers. Many of
them seem to have lost faith in themselves. We need to help them to recover
their courage. Perhaps the best help we can give them is to demonstrate with
our own lives that life is good and that each of us has within us all the
things that are necessary for our own happiness.
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