- Details
I awake this morning to the very proximal sound of a diesel engine and realize…
It’s Tree Day! The TREE GUYS Are Here!
Seriously, what could be more exciting during a COVID crush than watching Tree Guys purge your deciduous flora of dead weight? (And thereby protect your modest abode from another hurricane or two?) Personally, I can’t fathom a higher time-of-pandemic dopamine dosage. (Well, I CAN, but we’re not headed in that direction.)
I pass on making my bed, slip into this week’s t-shirt + shorts uniform and head for the front door. I greet my Tree Guys with a bright “HELLO, can I bring you coffee? Water? Tributes?”
I am politely declined.
They are Worthy.
Undejected, I pour Califia-laced coffee into my Ember, gather my hand-held supercomputers & accessories, and deposit self into a favored chair on my patio porch.
LET THE SHOW BEGIN!
My Tree Guys are Professional, Helmeted, Trim, Nimble, Thoughtful, Careful and Meticulous. Clearly knowledgeable about their work, they discuss amongst themselves which branches to excise - of my 11:00-leaning Quercus falcata (Southern Red Oak) - that will benefit both the tree and the left rear corner of my dollhouse. Youth envy notwithstanding, my DIY soul truly appreciates - both physically and monetarily - the skills they bring to the table. Their jobs in today’s Bizarro-World are secure; they are blessed.
My iPhone videos the Climber as he walks his rope 80 feet into the sky. The cracks of small limbs are chased by a thud as dead wood greets brick. And another one bites the dust.
Larger appendages are carefully lowered via swe-e-e-e-et rigging technique to Ground Tree Guys who make quick work of all detritus. These guys are no less worthy than Climber. They swiftly eliminate a 70’ Tsuga caroliniana (Carolina Hemlock) that has rudely exposed her nakedness far too long for Southern sensibilities. Buh-bye.
My Tree Guys’ helmets sport a Bluetooth communication system enabling quiet discussions while they work. Between directives, they banter about tree-centric wildlife (green snakes, tree frogs) and generalities of human life. When I catch a Red Bull reference, I emerge from my observation bubble...
Me: “So there’s a Red Bull fan among you?”
They observe me like the Troglodyte I am to them.
They: “Sure!”
Must be an acquired taste; my palate revolts on contact.
Me: “I have one Red Bull; who gets it?”
This unbidden freebie arrived in one of my meal kit shipments. I’m thrilled for the chance to clear the dead wood from my Frigidaire.
Tree Guys elect Crew Chief (the Climber).
I hurdle two white girls on my way to the fridge and return with bounty. I am thrilled for this 12-ounce can that journey to its life’s fulfillment will be vertical via that swe-e-e-e-et rigging technique. I wonder whether this highlight is greater for me or the can.
Tree Guys clear my roof of flora and blow my patio clean as their wood chipper polishes off final branches. We bid farewell. I return to my porch to appreciate their work and my freshly sunlit brick patio.
Siiiggghhh.