In the logging business there’s a term used for a branch that falls and kills a logger, it’s called a widow maker. The day before yesterday, I experienced one falling on me and quite honestly it put the fear of Jesus in me. I was going about my business on the steep slopes falling a dead tree when a kindling dry branch snapped free from the trunk above and landed on my shoulder. It hit with such force that it knocked me back. The funny thing is, it was smaller than a baseball bat but man did it pack a punch… I can’t even imagine what a bigger branch would have done.
I now have a new reverence for the damage a bone dry limb falling from 50 feet can do to a person. The smart logger looks up and sees what danger is above. I’ve been falling dead trees for the pass couple of months but this little wake up call woke me up. I guess I need to be more cautious being that I’m alone out there.
Other than Toonce standing guard over me, it’s desolate out there. On the bright side, I’m sure loyal Toonce would have laid on my crumpled body until I regained consciousness or until it was vulture feasting time; either way, he would have watched over me. He’s no Lassie, so saying to him, go get help wouldn’t have worked. He would probably have meowed, “A smart feline would have looked up!” This too will pass