Showing posts with label Tree surgery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tree surgery. Show all posts

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Tree Surgery

Our side boundary borders several fields. The trees on the hedge have grown like mad this year due to the heat wave in April then an entire summer of rain. My office window looks out onto the fields. Well, it would if the view hadn't been reduced to a small gap between a thickly-leafed oak branch on one side and a massive holly bush on the other. We had planned to get a local tree surgeon in to cut everything back.  But because of the weather he's way behind on work already booked, plus there was no access for his machinery.  So we talked it over and decided to do it ourselves.  Whatever happened to my quiet writing life? My unofficial Christmas deadline?
Anyway, after lunch Mike made a start. Using a ladder and a bow saw he managed to take the top and side branches off the oak tree.  The branch obscuring my window came down about six inches from the glass.  (See first picture)  After I got back from the mobile library van and we'd had a cup of tea I put on my overalls (I have my own pair after I got soaked and filthy helping to bag up seaweed for the allotment – but that's another story) and clambered over the hedge into the fields.
Apart from that one huge branch, he had managed to drop the others into the field.  I used secateurs with two-foot-long handles and jaws like a shark to cut everything into short lengths.  I built up a pile in the field about twenty feet in diameter and about seven feet high.
The following morning Mike finished cutting back and I did the last of the chopping up. Then he threw armfuls up to me on the hedge and, clinging to a strand of barbed wire, I jumped up and down on it. (Not elegant, but very effective) We managed to lose the entire pile in the gap between our stone hedge and the brambles forming a barrier in the field.   Just we finished at 11.30am the drizzle started.  We had timed it perfectly.  Sweaty and exhausted I clambered back into our garden.  After a shower I went out to my office, pulled up the blind and  looked out onto a panoramic view worth every scratch, ache and blister. 

Jane Jackson.