Riches Falling from the Trees

Long ago, twenty years, probably more, I was reading the back of a cereal box and on the box was an offer for a bracelet if you sent in a box top and an envelope. And like a nine-year old kid, I clipped off the box top, found an envelope and sent it to General Mills or Kellogg, whichever. The bracelet was silver links with a heart and on the heart was written “Do More.”

I still have the bracelet. I’m sure of it because I rarely throw things like that away. And I certainly have the sentiment, more so since I turned 75. But the “Do More” isn’t about going to France or writing a novel. It’s about using a chainsaw, wrestling the fallen branches to the curb for pickup, stumbling in line dancing class, having lunch with a new friend, reading E.E. Cummings’ indecipherable poetry, and suddenly, inexplicably, becoming a Leonard Cohen fan.

But to the chainsaw. I have this to say about handling a chainsaw. It’s really heavy. It also doesn’t saw as fast as you think it will. That part was kind of a disappointment. But it was the heaviness of the thing that took the fun out of sawing. Like Jeez. What if I was going after an actual tree and not an oversized weed, well, buckthorn, I think, which is a pretty sturdy weed which is why it can take over your entire life if you let it.

It’s not going to become my new hobby. Still, it is nice to know about the chainsaw brake and about the little button you have to push and the trigger you have to pull simultaneously. It is nice to know that if you let go of these things, the saw will stop, say, even if you drop it on your foot. I suppose it would keep going for a bit – on residual energy – before it cut off which could certainly do some damage. I should have worn my boots.

All of this goes by way of saying, if there is a chainsaw in your garage, rev it up. Consider it a metaphor for what ails you. And go cut something down that’s bothering you and haul it to the curb where it belongs. And then go inside with the smell of outside on your hands and be glad you’re here.