80 Feet of Destruction

Posted on by Thor

By Thomas Thorspecken

An otherwise quiet morning was interrupted by the sound of a chainsaw and a loud thud that shook the ground. A lot was being cleared that had been a dense forest for hundreds of years in the quiet suburbia development in Lake County, Florida.  Dense forest had been a perfect source of shade in the sweltering summer. I had looked at the lot on Zillow and it sold for $96,000. If a $400,000 home were built, there, was plenty of profit to be made.

My friend, had set up a bench near the street that relied on the shade of the trees to offer a resting place for people walking through the neighborhood. It was about to be drenched in endless blazing sunlight. The workers used it to store equipment and drinks.

One worker, known as the climber, had sharp metal cleats on his boots and he was the one who would cut off branched high overhead, and then fell the tree trunk half way up. A large backhoe would push over what remained of the tree trunk and dig up the roots.

The climber was almost pushed off the tree by the backhoe which was pushing over another tree. The tree branches narrowly missed the climber and he shouted down to the ground for them to take more care. In the haste to flatten the lot quickly, they were being reckless.

One of the crew had once been a climber in his youth. Back then, he was up in a tree 30 feet in the air, and the tree snapped at the base, falling to the ground with him in it. A tree branch punctured his upper thigh and didn’t stop until it hit bone. He never climbed another tree.

A large osprey, clutching a fish landed in one of the few remaining trees on the lot. He ate his breakfast as the devastation happened below him. The next day, the osprey returned and could not find the tree he had landed in the day before. Confused, he landed on the grass in the back yard for a moment. He was magnificently large, only about 10 feet from me. He spread his large wings and took off with the fish to find another branch high above the ground to feast upon his catch.

As I sketched, a dragon fly hoovered next to me looking at the habitat being destroyed. He hoovered in place for about five minutes, curious and perhaps horrified. The dragon fly didn’t notice me, we both stared in disbelief. It was a surreal scene. I could see the wheels turning in his little insect mind. Perhaps the dense forest had once been his home. It had also been home to owls, snakes, several ducks, and squirrels who played among the branches. At night that lot had always been full of mysterious noises. Now it would be silent.

A worker explained to me that they were only clearing about two thirds of the property, about 80 feet back from the road. A stake with a small orange strip of fabric marked where they would stop. The lot had been purchased by a developer who was going to quickly build a house for profit. The dense forest growth would fill the back yard of the new home being built. After one day of cutting, only a few trees remained in the front 80 feet of the property. It took hundreds of years for the trees on the lot to grow, but absolute devastation happened in just a few days.

Howie in the Hills Mission Style Studio

Posted on by Thor

I am searching for my next studio and or forever home. On Zillow, I saw this home in Howie in the Hills and decided for the first time that I had to go and take a tour in person.

The place was built in 1925. Caved up above the entry is “Anno Domini 1926” which means, “In the year of our lord 1926.” The original home owners had their busts carved in triangular motives around the entry. What appealed to me the most was a sun room off to the right which is where I would put my Disney Desk. Each ground floor room has built in bookcases which is awesome. The living room with a working fireplace could also act as the studio space. The dining room had a doorway to a back yard lanai. The back yard was small but had the original iron work fence. Unfortunately the iron is starting to rust out and would need work. There was also a quirky fountain in the yard. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a tiny bathroom with a tiny tub that had doors to both bedrooms. In the back was a shed with a window AC that could be plumbed with a toilet if I wanted. The home was formerly owned by a police officer and the front door had more dead bolts in it than a bank safe.

I fell in love with the place immediately. The kitchen was gorgeous having been converted into a gourmet chef’s dream. Since I am not a gourmet chef it might be wasted on me. There had been termites in the kitchen but I was assured that they had been taken care of. The septic was out to the west of the shed.The place could be made into a perfect working studio. Since I now work digitally I wouldn’t need tons of space. The home is on a corner lot at the intersection of West Myrtle and highway 19.

After the tour, I sat across the street to sketch. Over the course of two hours, I noticed the road noise from 19 more and more. 18 wheelers roared down the road constantly and every car seemed to be in a mad rush. There was one mass of bamboo planted between the road noise and the home. I started to reason that expanding the bamboo patch might cut the noise down. With cars and trucks rushing by at night, I would probably loose sleep.

The home is 1 block from Little Lake Harris which is a part of a chain of lakes. I had to run across 19 to avoid getting run over. The lake is gorgeous and there is a dock at the end of the block. I could easily set out on a kayak any time I wanted. If I could just move the home away from the highway noise and closer to the lake it wold be perfect. Having lived for the past 6 months on the flight path for planes landing at Orlando International Airport, I know how grating such constant noise can be.

As much as I am madly in love with the place, I will probably have to pass, though I change my mind every few hours.

MAGAts

Posted on by Thor

The Urban Dictionary defines MAGAts as… “Trump supporters who blindly regurgitate the simple minded rhetoric of their beloved cult leader. They typically drive vehicles with large Trump 2020 or MAGA stickers or flags attached to them and gather in large groups. They refuse to wear masks and unlike the larval stage of the diptera, they serve absolutely no purpose in either nature or society.” I heard the phrase used for the first time this weekend listening to a radio show about the domestic terrorist attack at the United States Capitol.

With Trump’s violent rhetoric cut off by Twitter this movement is seeking alternated methods to get their insurrectionist messages out to the masses. They use a messaging service on Zillow to communicate. Zillow claims they can not monitor communications on their platform.

This is a rare case where people literally live streamed their own crimes. This of course made the job of the FBI much easier since videos keep popping up every day. Wave after wave of MAGAts smashed into police, eventually overcoming defenses and entering the building shortly after 2 p.m. MAGAts mad their way right into the Senate chamber and rifled through lawmakers desks. One with bull horn pincers wrote a note of vice president Pence that read, “It’s only a matter of time, justice is coming.” He is being held without bail. In jail this MAGAt refused to eat the food insisting that he only eats organic foods. Most maggots I know of will eat any open flesh wound.