After years of wrestling with the idea of being a tree farmer, I've finally come to terms with the harshness of living in close proximity to aging arbors and am now ok with the euthanasia of select gentle giants...especially when they come inches away from crashing down upon your sleeping loved ones' skulls.
We are working with a logger to thin our crop of poplar, hickory, maple and locust in our hardwood forest. I've heard all the horror stories of clear cutters raping the land, but these guys are the good'uns. Except for an area they have cleared to pile logs (we are going to put a barn there anyway), they have mapped our property like a jigsaw puzzle, piecing together the best ways to access trees to harvest without jeopardizing the youth left to mature. These guys even attempt to minimalize the damage to the underbrush.
The landscape will change, but I have photos from 20 years ago which remind me of what the land used to be before the forest thickened. And come spring, we are going to plant saplings for our children's children to harvest...
I reckon I'll deal with the change and in the meanwhile, Harley seems happy to crawl around her redesigned digs...