When The Dead, Dead Log 'Un Goes Bob Bob Bobbin' Along

We had some rain last week. A lot at once. That wreaks havoc with our creek and bridges. Farmer H called to warn me a couple days ago that the county road crew was at the main low water bridge, working on a fallen tree. I had seen it on my way to town the day before, a giant tree, lying in the creek. It would have been floating, but the creek was back to normal level, and not deep enough.

 

Sometimes a log will get stuck on the bridge, when the next rain comes, and it starts to wash across. Then one of the local residents will use his tractor to shove it off. No good waiting on the county road crew to fit it into their schedule.

 

Anyhoo... I had successfully avoided these workmen for a few days. I figured surely they would be done. Farmer H said they had a some kind of heavy equipment parked there, and some dump trucks. I knew it would be difficult, if not impossible, to squeeze by them.

 

Friday, I figured surely that dead tree would be gone by now. I took my regular route, and saw a bunch of men in glowy green t-shirts and hardhats walking around on the bridge. The Pony and I were able to squeeze through. Only regular pickup trucks from the county were parked there.

 

"I guess they're waiting on some heavy equipment to come and get rid of THAT tree."

 

Because now there was a huge tree on the OTHER side of the bride, lying in the water. I assumed its roots must not have been able to hold onto the wet soil of the bank. We returned home by our alternate route, to avoid what I thought would be some tree-hoisting and chainsawing and woodchipping.

 

Saturday, I was surprised to see that big tree still there, and no sign of workmen. I asked Farmer H why they wouldn't have cut up THAT tree, too.

 

"It's the same tree, HM. They moved it across the bridge."

 

"With all that equipment? WHY wouldn't they just get rid of it?"

 

"I don't know. I guess they figure it will wash on down to the river with the next flood."

 

The river is at least a half mile downstream. But don't you worry about this tree.

 

 

The water rises up over those 5-foot markers, and goes down to that last pole you can see on the road, and up to the level of T-Hoe's hood. That tree will get washed on down. No more bridges or roads on the way to the river.

 

I stopped to take this picture, but a car came up behind me, and I had to move along. It doesn't do justice to the size of that tree.

 

 

Nor does this zoomed-in version. But I wouldn't want to be in the way when that thing goes bobbing down the creek in the muddy whitewater.