Pole in a Hole

I chopped up the log with my chainsaw and threw it into the woods. Practically standing in the highway, running a chainsaw slicing through that nice, new log, abandoned and bare, lying in my yard, I felt a bit like some sort of exhibitionist mortician at work.

Loading it into the truck, driving it to a remote spot, and finally tossing the pieces into the woods felt like hiding evidence.

That log would have made some good poles. Somebody could have made use of it. Instead, I used it for fill in a low spot.