The back of the property is finally dry enough for me to reclaim my Compost Pile Complex, yet only the original pile is going to be used for a while. I’ve got some work to do back there. Let’s so a quick recap of why this conversation is taking place.
12 April 2023. A freak rain event drops eleven inches of rain in six hours on top of a small part of Brooks County Georgia, resulting in the pond overflowing, my backyard flooding, and the compost pile being submerged. I lose a giant Live Oak in the backyard due to its roots being submerged and it falling over. A wet summer follows.
20 August 2023. Hurricane Idalia comes ashore and brings us some wind and rain. Some smaller trees are knocked over, limbs fall in the flooded area and that’s where they will stay for a while.
26 September 2024. Hurricane Helene comes ashore and we take a direct hit with maximum winds of 128 mph recorded in Brooks County. More rain, more downed trees in the back, and one big Water Oak on the west side of my two acres is broken near the ground and pushed due west. It had been leaning due east. The flood water in my backyard nearly reaches the deck. My shed, which is three feet off the ground, is six inches away from being flooded.
20 January 2025. A foot of snow falls in South Georgia. It’s pretty. But it’s also made of water and it does not help at all. The giant Pine Tree in the backyard dies from its root system being submerged. It’s seventy-five feet tall. I take it down with a chainsaw and more than a few tears.
The water hangs around until we start having drier weather in the first part of 2025. April and May see only a few inches of water, and as the water recedes, I start moving stuff out of the yard.
By June of 2025, the water is almost all gone and by July, I’m back into the Compost Pile.
The hibernaculum started before the flooding and got bigger once the Live Oak fell. I set fire to it one time, when the water was high and got some cool photos of it. I also took the kayak out and paddled around, even over the compost pile.
But now, it’s a wasteland out there for trees. Many, many, many have died, from being pushed over or for being drowned. Quite a few are leaning on other trees and will eventually fall. I can either let nature takes it course and hope they fall well and not on a dog, or I can take them down.
One thing is for certain is I won’t live long enough to see the trees return. The First Tree, the tree that caught my attention by being the first free to grow in the Fire Pit Area is dead. For years, the back part of the property was overgrown with vines, and when I cleared them out, the trees returned. That was twenty-five years ago. A lot of my work in growing trees has been erased now, and I will not get another chance.
Take Care,
Mike
I weep when I lose a tree. I replace them as best I can. Without trees, there are no song birds. Without trees, there is too much noise. Without trees, the heat is unbearable. Without trees, there’s nothing to slow a wind storm from taking my roof.
Plant the trees. They will remember you long after you’re gone.
Beverley,
mostly, I’ve either facilitated the saplings that spring up, or I have moved them to a better location. I believe nature knows best where to put them. But this flooding killed so many, much more than the hurricane, and I have no idea where to begin.
One tree we have in the backyard is because a bird ate something and pooped out the seed. The tree the bird had sat in had to be taken down a few years later.
I had a thought you might do, Mike–and you probably have the skills to do it: build a moat around your house and use the fallen trees to make as many drawbridges as you need. It may not help the re-sell value but might provide some area for the flood waters to go.
Tim, I did think about building a bridge over the ditch in the back using the downed trees. Most of them are crooked and bent shaped, so I might have better luck selling them to Lowe’s to use as 2X4s.