Views on Logging
I doubt anyone expects to see this:
In winter, the deforestation seems more devastating, more stark, more cruel.
And yet, I have to remind myself, this is a state managed forest and presumably, there is a plan to thin out some unwanted tree-life, perhaps the poplar that some refer to as the weeds of a forest, in order to allow for more growth space for the more desirable hardwoods.
We pass many areas such as this, bare spots in the forest, alternating with the lush density. And, eventually we have to stop and take a closer look.
Trying to find some reason in this forest reduced to chaotic shrubs, piles of logs, and mounds of bark debris.
The linear cut of the saw distracts me from counting growth rings.
And yet, the color of the cut woods, the shapes in the grain grab my attention and suddenly I feel the urgent need to capture the sight of each and every log.
This one looks like a fish, or a whale.
Yin yang (sort of).
But no matter what I might find, desperately looking for beauty, I am sad to see what remains.
Some people would look at this site and see possibility, a cleared area for a cabin, perhaps. I don't see that. I see an end to many years of growth. How many years will it take to grow back?
We've seen the trees marked with red paint for a couple of years now, but never imagined this day would actually come.
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