Take a deep breath. Breathe. Now is the right time. The baby shrubberies are at their most visible. The deciduous will be re-tagged. If the utility company's tree butchers make some effort, the carnage can be kept to a minimum. Bulbs and tubers will be fine no matter. There is always next year.
I got a quick visit this afternoon that was cut short by rain. They will be back next week he says. "There really isn't that much to do here." Yes, I have been busy these last ten years, more so this winter, making sure your job would be easy. I still want to walk the garden with the crew and show them where the rubbish can be neatly stacked. I may even do one final chop myself this weekend before they get here.
Just please, watch were you step. Don't stomp on my babies.
The bicycle is safe. The trees will get some limbing up. There are a number of hydrangea, azalea and weigela in there that need bright orange tags again.
The tree on the right with the lighter colored gash in the trunk is coming down. This is what scares me the most. Will they drop it whole or in pieces? The problem is it was stuck by lightning and is woodpecker hollow all the way up. It can't be safe to climb. It has to be dropped with precision across the left eye of Creation to avoid the power line. It looks tall enough to cross the length of the Great Lawn. That could be a problem.
He offered to cut down the lightning struck tree on the left. It is healing much better and I sure don't want it to fall to the left with its lean on top of my baby trees. I told him it could stay.
Breathe. It will all be over quickly. I will clean up after they are gone and the garden will have the entire season to grow undisturbed.
And I will keep the forest pushed back for the next ten years. There will be even less work next time.