I93, Woods

The interstate highway 93 in New Hampshire cuts through the shallow valleys of the southern part of the state. The surrounding trees end abruptly where the highway emerges. Logging was a fixture of the New Hampshire economy for years, but even before then, there was widespread deforestation to make way for the numerous farms that used to cover New Hampshire.

                Sometimes I imagine what it would look like if the highway had not cut the channels through the forest. Then, I remember that these trees could not be more than two hundred years old. After that, I remember that living in a wooded area means that I do know what standing in the middle of a forest looks like. Oh well.

                My grandfather cut wood on his property for two decades and the wood stoves in his Massachusetts house were fed by his efforts.

                “He loves trees… He loves to cut them down,” my grandmother once said.

                My grandfather split far more wood than he would ever need. He was always looking after the health of trees by removing unhealthy branches or cutting down dangerous suspects. His workshop garage was surrounded by stacks and stacks of wood, waiting the warm the house when need.