The Attack of the Wood Chipper

wood chipper with tree

wood chipper with man

photos by L.E. Swenson

9:45 a.m. Saturday. Morning broke to the sound of a chainsaw, a wood chipper and multiple leaf blowers. Welcome to Suburbia. I was hoping to sleep in today and recover from my cold. No such luck.

The cats are simultaneously fascinated and terrified by the sounds.

Quincy in window

Quincy supervises (photo by E. Herd)

The overpowering surround-sound makes me officially involved. I am on a mission to discover what is going on. Lorin tells me it’s a wood chipper two houses down. I peek out different windows in the house and go into the back and front yard to observe.

A man wearing ear mufflers is rappelling down the side of a decapitated tree. Ten to twenty minutes later: the rappelling man and another guy wearing ear mufflers are sawing the trunk off, then sawing the trunk into smaller chunks for the chipper.

It is now 11:56 and the noise continues. The smell of freshly mown grass. One cannot escape THE NOISE. Tomorrow is Mother’s Day, so I suppose everyone’s lawns must be pristine, and dead trees must be felled.

In circumstances like these, I do have options. I can: (a) rebel, by running through the streets yelling, “Shut up, you machine-obsessed suburbanites!” and throw rocks at the machines, which would make me appear mentally ill and/or un-American. This would result in my being carted off in an ambulance or police car; (b) leave the premises; (c) join in; or (d) wear ear plugs. Dishes and laundry must be washed, so it’s option (c). The dishwasher is from another era and is rather loud so it drowns out some of the wood chipper and leaf blower sounds.

If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.

It is 12:27 p.m. The sound of men yelling at each other over the machines adds to the atmosphere of weekend harmony.

Happy Mother’s Day, all!