We were like the pioneers, armed with axe and hatchet, clearing the tangled wilderness to make room for civilization. Well, actually, we were just clearing space enough for a modest-sized house, garage and driveway.
Still, it seemed like pioneer work to me.
I think I was about seven years old at the time. The wilderness we cleared was only a few miles from where I now live. It seemed far away at the time.
I’d never cleared land before, but I had read about it. Mom often bought books to enrich whatever I learned at school. I knew a thing or two.
I remember helping Dad load our gear, including axe, saw, pick and maul, into the trunk of the car. Mom packed a basket of sandwiches and a first-aid kit in case the wilderness fought back.
Good thing too. I did get one wound in the field. It was a bloody cut which mom skillfully set right with nothing more than iodine and band-aid.
We set off before dawn, traveling down a narrow country road with dense forest overlapping either side. By sunup we were at the site. A couple of cars were there ahead of us with trunk lids open, and family crews unloading equipment. The only parking space available was along the side of the road.
The impenetrable wilderness offered no other space.
Work started immediately. The whacking was intense. It was hard sweaty going. My job was to carry brush and severed branches to the rapidly growing open space. By noon we had A really big pile of cut wood and blue-sky opening overhead.
The moms called out lunch. The men swapped their axes for sandwiches and beer. Kids got Kool-Aid instead of beer. I was pretty sure pioneers didn’t have Kool-Aid. I wasn't sure they had bottled beer either. No matter, I let it go.
Lunch was soon over.
The work only half done.
We kept at it.
By dusk the clearing was all but complete and the bush pile enormous. By nightfall we set the bush pile afire. We roasted wienies and marsh mallows over the coals celebrating work well done. We loaded our tools back in the cars, said goodbye. We returned dirty and tired to bath and bed. We slept like heroes.
Next morning Dad got a troubling call.
We had cleared the wrong lot.
What! How? How was such a mistake possible?
I remember grumbling and accusations that lasted quite a while. None of that mattered to me. It was a great adventure. I couldn’t understand how anyone could find an invisible lot in all that forest, anyway.
I don’t think any of those who cleared the wrong lot volunteered to clear the right lot once it was identified.
Perfectly understandable.
I enjoyed being a pioneer for a day.
Two days wouldn’t have been as much fun.
My day of clearing the land didn’t really look like this, but it looked like this in my imagination.