After growing up in Kansas, where trees are more of a suggestion than a presence, moving here thirteen years ago meant adjusting to forests, mountains, and enough timber to make a Kansas boy nervous.

We chose this place partly because of the beauty, though I’ve since learned you can have too much of a good thing. Soon after arriving, we had nearly a hundred trees removed just to reclaim some sunlight and views.

Since then, I also acquired a chainsaw—a development that likely has my guardian angels working overtime, because trees and my chainsaw skills can be a dangerous combination.

I once built a fine garden fence, only to have a windstorm flatten it with a falling limb the very next day. Recent storms have toppled more trees throughout the area, but they also left me with enough firewood for several winters. Around here, God ...