I massacred one of the bushes in front of my house today.
Hacked it all to pieces.
It was here when we moved in, already overgrown; blocking the guest room window, and all-too-inviting for the Virginia creeper that uses it to gain its stronghold over the siding on the house.
I started with the giant scissor-looking-things, just to get the leaves out of the way, so I could see and assess what I was going to be dealing with.
The small branches were no match against the force of my sharpened blades and determined shoulders. By the time I got the leaves and small branches cut off, determined to make this stupid bush look like the others, I was a sweating hot mess, panting like a monster, and no longer able to raise my arms. The branches that remained were taller than me, and thicker than what my suddenly-burdensome tool could handle.
I contemplated just grabbing the chainsaw and cutting the whole damn thing down, but all the plants working together to express my yard would definitely miss it. It would leave a gaping, unfillable hole.
The trick wasn't more power, but more finesse. I needed the right tool, and that was going to be one that would cut through the thick branches one-by-one, individually. Judging by the burning in my shoulders, I knew I'd have to change my pace as well, because if I used the hand-held pruners with the same fervency as I had the scissors/trimmers, I'd be setting myself up for a crippling hand cramp injury.
I slowly cut away a few of the tall, thick, spindly branches.
That's when I saw the bird nest.
Dammit.
Was there anything in it, or was this just evidence of previous life?
I didn't want to disturb it right away; I can't, in good conscience, destroy some thing's home. (Unless I know it's not being used. Then it's fair game.)
I cut away all the branches around the nest, leaving this ridiculous cropping of nest-embedded branches. I'll deal with the nest later.
(At first, I thought it looked like crap, like a tiny green umbrella over a giant knot of branches.)
I think if I was able to cut that section off, people could look at my hack-job and realize what I was trying to accomplish.
Bare, twisted, lopped-off branches now, but as the season progressed, it would be filled in by new growth. Tender, but fuller, healthier.
Anyone who's ever dealt with an overgrown shrub, (I think it's a Camellia?) knows this is bound to happen; this hard pruning that seems to destroy, but really shapes into something more desirable.
That was my goal when I started; to shape this overgrown shrub into something better, healthier.
Now that I look at how strange it looks, all misshapen, lopsided, I'm kind of diggin' the weirdness of the whole thing.
Maybe I'll leave it for a few days, and figure out what to do about this nest...
(I re-read all this and laugh...I realize and remember it's not the first time God used a bush to speak to someone...)
