Shared the tree pics with my good friend, a tree service owner in PA. Enjoyed his response:
“Sisyphusian is not a word.
But otherwise I agree with his assessment - it's fun, but it's more fun with equipment. And chippers are.... They command respect”
My spelling was off, my intention was not.
That should have read “
Sisyphean,” and while I have much to learn in the overlapping worlds of forest treatments, arbor work, and modern philosophy, I’m confident it’s best not to argue with a guy with a chainsaw.
As I was consulting Wikipedia for the correct spelling, I went down a small rabbit hole and emerged with faint memories of Friday morning college philosophy coursework. In the original myth, Sisyphus got stuck rolling a boulder up a mountain only to watch it tumble back down just before the top, every day. Not fun. Or maybe it was?
Hit Fast Forward, and
Albert Camus had a nice take on Sisyphus’ fate, which I very much relate to, where Sisyphus is happy in his labor, in spite of the task’s absurdity.
The trees will only grow, and grow back. Since I’m felling the trees them and distributing them via a chipper, I’m not taking energy potential out of the woods, I’m merely relocating it. The one standing tree becomes millions of chips strewn on the ground. At least until they degrade, those chips and mulch can still burn. And as they degrade, they fortify the soil and combined with newly accessible sunlight, encourage more trees to grow.
Where I’m finding happiness is in being properly equipped to contend with the task, even if the desired end-result remains elusive.
A snapshot of my bedside table reading list of late.

And speaking of endless labor: little tweaks to an old 911.