The Mulberry Hedge - Faux Real Story Week

Starting the end of this week and through the next, as we approach the longest night of the year, I thought we could all gather around the virtual fire each day and I would tell you all a story.  

Well, not just a story.  A Faux Real Story!  These stories aren't fictional, but I've been told they are, nonetheless, somewhat entertaining.  So, sip on some hot chocolate, reach your hands out to warm them by the fire... and enjoy.

I grew up in town and the house had a small to average-sized yard for an in-town lot. And, yet, I seem to have a fair number of stories about me and that yard. Why is that? I'll allow you to ponder that whilst I tell today's tale.

The back yard's north border was guarded by a series of mulberry trees/bushes that were trimmed into a hedge (of sorts). Now, if you know anything about mulberries in Iowa, you realize that they can grow VERY quickly and an established tree or bush could rapidly grow from 10 feet tall to 20 feet tall in a season.

 

The mulberry hedge did a fine job of providing privacy for our neighbors (hey, there were four kids at our house and none at theirs - so I suspect it went this direction more than the other).  But, I liked the mulberries in part because they attracted wildlife to our yard.

Brown Thrasher aka Chirpa Chirpa Bird

Birds loved that hedge.  I learned to appreciate Brown Thrashers, Robins, Goldfinches, Wrens, Cardinals and Waxwings by simply being in that yard.  There were all sorts of birds because of the habitat this single hedge provided.  Tiger Swallowtails liked to run the line and switch sides as they flew their route and we were periodically graced with the appearance of a another butterfly called a Mourning Cloak.  

 

I will say this, I put the bird and butterfly books that were gifted to me when I was a kid to good use.  So, folks, keep giving children those books because they might surprise you with what they learn (and what they can teach you)!

 

Now, one of the downsides to this mulberry hedge was what happened to the ripe fruit.  The birds, of course, at the berries.  I mean, it was good food for them, what else would you expect them to do?  Unfortunately, birds are also pretty indiscriminate where they let their droppings go. I am guessing a few neighbors were less fond of our natural habitat when they were scrubbing stains off of their cars.

And, as I alluded to earlier, the other downside was that it was difficult to keep that hedge tamed and the job of taming this hedge fell to me.  My tools consisted of a lopper, a hand saw, an 8-foot step ladder, and whatever wits I had about me.

 

Typically, I was trying to cut the hedge down from 16 feet to 10 feet in late July orearly August. And, since I wanted to do the job well, it was important that I not leave any straggler branches and I wanted the top of the hedge to be as level as possible.  Now, don't ask me WHY the top had to be level.  It just did.  That's how you trimmed hedges - right?

I had some additional motivation since one of our neighbors was extremely particular about everything on his property.  This person would scrape and repaint the eave on his garage every year.  He would crawl his entire lawn looking for weeds.  While I thought he was obsessive about such things, he was a great neighbor and I didn't want him thinking I couldn't do a good job.  So, I did my best to bring this wild thing into some sort of shape for the rest of the year.

Mulberry tree on the farm at left

 

This particular hedge was also 10 feet wide.  Did I mention that?  Yeah, it was pretty darned big.

 

So, do you see a problem with that?  If you consider my height of approximately 5 and half feet at that time, how was I supposed to reach the middle of that hedge?

 

Let me do some "math" for you here.  Eight foot step ladder.  Five and a half foot tall human.  The lopper might extend my reach two feet.  And, we wanted to trim the hedge at about ten feet tall and the branches in the middle of the hedge were five feet in.

 

Yeah.  It wasn't an easy project.

 

What followed were many hours of leaning into the hedge with one foot on the top rung of the ladder. My arms and legs were often fully extended. I typically could trim six to ten branches before I had to rearrange myself to take a stab at another group.  I distinctly remember the sore shins I would get because I would hook my leg (or legs) between the rungs so I could lean in further.

There were a few bruises, scratches and pulled muscles - but I usually succeeded. Until the day I fell into the hedge. 

 

Yes, you knew this was coming. I lost contact with the ladder and lost my grip on the bigger branch I was using to stay on top of the hedge. And, I fell. Well, no, I didn't fall. I just kind of slid through the bushes....slowly.  The Tiger Swallowtail floating by probably flew in a straight line for a second there as it suffered a fit of the giggles while it watched me fall in... slow.... motion.

Hey, if a human has a giggle fit while walking, they zigzag a bit.  If a butterfly, who flies in a zigzag pattern giggles, it probably results in flying a straight line.  This all makes sense as long as you allow yourself to believe that a butterfly can giggle  Once you accept that, the rest is easy.

Of course, I suffered more scratches and bruises from this unplanned tour of the hedge than I normally did during the entire process of trimming the hedge.   I suppose I could have quit for the day. But, the pruner was still up at the top of the hedge. 

 

Oh well.