I gazed down at the fence line, prob’ly near a quarter mile. One lodgepole post lay on the ground. It’d been there for a while.
Right off I noticed one lone fencepost standing straight and tall. I knew it was the juniper I’d planted late one fall.
My father taught me how to lay out fence and plant a post. He said a juniper fence post would outlast more than most.
The other posts were rotted through, no use that I could see. I soon recalled the nightmare of the juniper and me.
I drove out to the desert looking for a dried up tree. Then spotted one lone juniper. Its limbs were dead debris.
I brought my father’s new chainsaw, a Homelite XL-12. He had purchased it this morning. Pulled it off the Homelite shelf.
The chainsaw started with one pull. But a nagging in my gut kept telling me the juniper is a tougher tree to cut.
Sparks were flying past my ears. I had dulled a brand-new chain. So, I sharpened up the chain and sawed. Then sharpened once again.
The juniper smelled pungent, maybe like a billy’s beard. Or even natural pepper spray like your senses had been seared.
I finally cut clean through the stump. For the third time dulled my saw. You might just say I had a juniper stuck in ...