Tree aftermath – Post Script

Who could forget the tragic but heart-warming story of my tree that couldn’t stay up and of the nice SES personnel in their highly-visible clothing and filthy boots who made it all better.

The aftermath was a pile of branches that were too big to be munched by my chipper, arranged neatly over my back fence.  I had every intention of moving it to the nearby green waste site where the carbon would have been most welcome.  However, this was looking like several trips as neither of my cars had a tow bar.  Oddly I couldn’t think of anyone I knew who had a ute.  My station wagon might be OK, but the longer branches would be a challenge.

Until one day I returned from work to find the lot was gone.  All that was left was a single, small branch and the leaves that had fallen from them.

The leaves were all that was left


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