england gets our woodchips. we keep the timbers and exploit seedlings sheltered away as seeds in ships full of sawdust, warming and ready to sprout in the spring times of somewhere overseas. no offense but the trees stay at home.
there are a bunch of good red pines up the road on an MTO powerline right of way, though contested by the adjacent property owner. apparently he's a taxidermist, and if i can convince him, the trees are mine to cut. it's that time of the year when it's nice again to work in the bush.