Frost deep sparkles across the garden as the last night-gasps of winter drop from the sky.
Transplanting a tree-fern turned into major landscaping job, with about eighty barrows of soil moved to the garden bed into which the tree-fern would be planted.
Two vagrant trees occupy the far corner of the garden. Their name escapes me but they are a variegated leaf variety which look quite handsome as a hedge but grow vigorously into tall trees. If I leave them they will compete with a grove of tree-ferns for diminishing supplies of water.
I get the bow saw and two handsaws. It’s wretched job. The wood is sap heavy and the saw sticks. As frustrations grows I can hear echoes of my dead dad’s voice, “ Let the tool do the job.” and it spirals me back to childhood efforts with a hand saw and with too much force being applied to the job in hand.
Dad was an engineer by profession. “ The right tool for the job.” was another folk lore saying. I persevere with the three saws. Family members wonder why I don’t get a chain saw but I don’t like whirling sharp things and they scare me. Anyway, I don’t have enough trees needing removal to warrant the expense.
I make middle-aged noises like “Dearie me.” and “Golly Gosh.” as I pant for breath and regret my smoking. Then the thought comes to mind, ‘There’s more than one way to make a cut.”
By using the portable drill - in combination with the saws - the five thigh-thick, twenty foot high, trunks of the two trees took a few hours to fell but fall they did. I’ll pay someone to take out the stumps and plant a pear tree among the tree-ferns.
Another few weeks of early Spring and I’ll plant Petunias - the brightest and most cheerful of flowers.
Making the trees disappear is fairly easy. I don’t have a branch chipper but I do have a mulcher mower and some secateurs. A few more hours and the lawn has a new surface of mulch and a small woodpile exists - courtesy of a circular saw which also has whirling sharp bits but is relatively safe for me to use.
Gardens are a wonderful arena.