Asplundh Destruction

Lately AEP, the power company, has had Asplundh destroying trees along its right-of-way. Wherever there's a power line, the trees are not safe. This morning, Asplundh came to our road to do their destruction.

I heard them before I saw them. The noise was deafening. They were clearing part of the cow pasture across the road where the power line cuts through. You can see the pole to the left in the picture below.

There's a line of pines and cedars along the cow pasture, parallel to the fence. These evergreens provide both shade and a windbreak for the cows. But some, alas, are under the power line. Most of the trees are well below the line, they're just under it.

Asplundh isn't noted for doing a neat—or environmentally responsible—job. They just cut willy-nilly. It was bad enough when they only used chainsaws. Now they use a saw on the end of a long pole mounted to a truck.

First they sawed out the tree-tops which fell to the ground. Some fell on the fence, which wasn't in very good shape to begin with.

Later, they took chainsaws and leveled off the rest. They threw a lot of the trimmings into the pasture. Now the line of evergreens is gone. Note that you don't see any power lines over what they cut.

Then the big pole saw went back to do more damage. You never know when those trees will take a growth spurt and tangle themselves in the line that you can't see below because it's way over in the pasture.

I wonder if they'll go into the pasture to cut. There's a really big bull in residence who's protective of his territory. The photo below shows one place where the fence as down. The Asplundh crew went off to lunch without putting it back up.

A border collie inspects the damage.

Not a thing of beauty anymore.

A view from my deck of the machines of destruction.

A view from my deck a couple of months earlier—when the trees along the pasture were green and beautiful. And still there.

Update: After lunch they returned and, er. cleaned up. We figured they'd chip up all the trimmings and haul them off. Hope—they just dumped them into the cow pasture. In a few weeks, this brushpile will be nice and dry. One cigarette flipped from a truck window, and—well you can figure what might happen.

They snapped a fence post and the barbed wire was down. How did they fix it?

Here's how:

They propped up the snapped post with a piece of cedar they'd trimmed. Then they affixed the prop to a stump and the snapped post with barbed wire.

Notice that they left some barbed wire strands hanging loose. Is their "repair" good enough to contain the 1,500-pound bull that lives in the pasture? Time will tell. . . . 

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Golf Cart Trail Ride

Twenty-five years ago, I used to ride wooded trails on my horse, but those days are gone. I no longer have a horse, and health probems prevent me from walking, much less horseback riding. But this afternoon, I went on a trail ride—via golf-cart.

The part of the old Sutherland Plantation we bought in 2016 has a few trails that my husband has kept clear. Here's the start of one:

It leads downhill to the creek . . . 

. . . and it's below the last house built on the property.

Today was in the 80s, but the woods were surprisingly cool.

We passed ferns and downed trees.

Some of the trees were pretty good-sized.

We also passed where previous owners had dumped appliances, etc.

At the bottom, we came to the creek, which eventually flows into Bull Run, a cove on Smith Mountain Lake. 

Soon the hayfield came into view.

This tree was between the trail and creek. It almost looks like a paw-paw, but the leaves are much bigger.

Finally we came to the bridge, which leads to the fields and an old house. Given the condition of the bridge, we didn't drive across.

From the bridge, we could see the old William Milton Sutherland house. Will Sr. (1821-1899) served in the Confederate army. In the 1900 census, Will Jr. (1859-1942) was the closest neighbor to my great-grandfather, Henry Silas Smith.

The field in front of the house, which is a clapboarded-over double-pen log cabin, looks bluish. That's because the hay-fields were limed today. 

Near the bridge, two trees intertwined and looked like a sculpture.

The trail starting back up:

Just past this stand of trees is a busy road:

The trail ride was much too short, but it was nice while it lasted.

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Pawpaws 2015

The pawpaw harvest down along Polecat Creek this year wasn't very good—nothing like the 2013 harvest.  Last week, I rode the 4-wheeler down to the bottom to see what I could find.

There are plenty of pawpaw trees, but very few had any fruit. And the fruit had ripened a few weeks earlier this year than in previous years. Maybe the hot summer and the recent dryness had something to do with it.

Even the few pawpaws I could find weren't very big. Some trees didn't have any.

Consequently, the whole harvest was maybe two dozen, and not all of them were good-sized. This is it:

If you've never before eaten a pawpaw, it's a custardy fruit. You cut it in half and spoon out the contents, taking care not to swallow the numerous seeds.

 A pawpaw tastes a little like a banana, but a lot better.

Maybe next year we'll have a better harvest.

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Silage Cutting

One of the signs of impending autumn is the cutting of corn for silage. The GMO corn across the road was cut a couple of weeks ago. It had gotten really tall this year and was kind of oppressive. This is how it looked in mid-August:

With so little rain in the area, the corn had been getting progressively drier. 

On Friday, August 28, cutting began in earnest. When I came home from a meeting, debris that had blown out of the silage trucks was all over the road.

 While one truck went to the dairy farm down the road to unload, another returned, while yet another was being filled.

Now a few rows  of dead dry corn still stand here and there, no doubt for the convenience of dove hunters. Dove season started September 3.

 

 

One little problem for the dove hunters, though—no doves.

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