Old Trees, Pear Eating Turkey, and Praise for Shade

We take advantage of the shade provided by our two old trees nearly every hot day.  It's a good day when I find myself sitting in their shade, sipping a tasty beverage, and admiring the view while dinner is cooking on the grill.  These two old trees protected us from the sun for years while we worked on this old house and lunched on the lawn, and more than one visiting friend has had some excitement when a tiny black beetle drops down their collar from the pears overhead.  

The old silver maple leans, and looks very dramatic with all those dead pale limbs reaching.  The dead wood on this tree goes all the way to the ground on one side, and provides habitat for mushrooms and lean brown roaches that come out at night to horrify amaze guests gathered by the campfire.  Some learned the hard way that sitting too near the tree after dark can result in a thrilling roach encounter.  

In years past the pears would fall faster than we could use them, and by this time of year the ground would be littered with bruised pears and the wasps would feast.  I think the mole must focus his worm hunting excavations under the pear tree due to the years of organic enrichment.  But this year, things are different.  We have Turkey!

Turkey, plus a dozen giant meat hens that are months beyond their freeze by date, are excellent pear clean up.  They eat every dropped pear, every day.  In the mornings there will be dozens of pears on the ground, and by the evening there are zero.  When a pear falls with a thud, Turkey comes running!  When I said to Brandon that Turkey might taste delicious because of her diet of pears, he gave me a look like I was threatening to eat the dog!  Do we have a pet turkey?  

With daily pear fruit clean up, instead of concentrating the nutrients harvested by the pear tree right at it's feet, Turkey is spreading all that good stuff around the yard.  And stockpiling it on the floor of the chicken coop, so I can put it in the garden.  She's a genius!

Occasionally we whisper about cutting the shabby old silver maple, or removing big limbs from the old pear with the hollow trunk.  Every year we put it off, and collect the fallen branches for the fire pit, and say thanks for one more summer of shade.

The little forest on the east side of the house is growing fast, and promises years of shade to come.   

Even the old locust tree near the driveway, given up for dead, has sprouted from the roots, and makes a little shadow.  It's a good place to mix cement, or for Wendigo to take a nap.