12—THUD!

The men wearing hard hats and carrying saws with the big silver blades spread out through the forest. And as they turned on their saws, the forest was filled with a whirring from each saw that all together sounded like a neighborhood full of lawn mowers. Before Lucy and Hannah understood what was happening, one of the Saw People walked up to Adora Birch’s tree and touched the whirring teeth on the blade of his saw to the tree just a few feet from the ground. In two swift cuts, the

saw carved a small wedge into the tree trunk. Then the Saw Person walked around to the opposite side of the tree and just above the hight of the wedge pressed the whirring edge of the blade into the tree. 

The saw’s teeth whirred faster, slicing through the trunk, spewing sawdust as it cut. The tree’s tallest branches began to sway back and forth as in a leafy ballet. Suddenly, a loud crack rang through the forest. Then the saw went silent. And in one slow graceful fall, Adora Birch’s tree snapped at the point where the wedge had been cut, and after a slow fall hit the earth with a thud and great brush of leaves. And there the tree lay, the fragrance of fresh wood rising up from the cut.

“Adora Birch!” cried Lucy.

“Dora tree hurt,” whimpered Hanna who then burst into tears.

If Adora Birch heard and replied, there was no way of knowing. For the forest was filled with the sound of the saws dropping trees—the long metal blades spitting out sawdust followed by the crack, the fall, and one thud after the other until all the trees were down. In a day, the forest that had grown out of hundreds of tiny winged fairy seeds was laid flat.

Lucy and Hannah kept watch over Adora Birch’s tree as the Saw People removed the limbs from the trees and piled the brush high. Then the machine with treads instead of wheels moved in. The machine had a long metal neck with big metal
jaws that picked up each tree trunk and placed it on a long flat truck.  

Adora Birch's tree was the first log to be lifted into the truck. It lay on the bottom to the far left. The kept watch, worrying and wondering:  Were Adora Birch and her tree scared? Had they been hurt?

Before

Soon, the big truck was fully loaded. And as the truck drove
away, the Saw People loaded up their tools and followed. Then
there was only silence. No birds or animals. No sound of wind for there were no leaves for the wind to rustle. What had been a forest was now an empty place strewn with piles of twigs and brush. Where each tree once stood, there were only stumps.  

The Magical Story Room no longer felt magical.

“No more Dora story,” said Hannah, hands over her ears, tears rolling down her face.

After

Lucy was also feeling very sad. And yet, somehow, she knew that out there at the end of The Very Long and True Story of Adora Birch was Adora Birch herself—smiling out of that door.

Great Aunt Nature Walker closed her book. “Let’s take a break for a little snack,” she suggested. And back into the kitchen they went where, sure enough, there was Adora Birch, still smiling. 

“Oh, dear,” said Adora Birch, “why do my little Nature Walkers look so downhearted?"
And then as Great Aunt Nature Walker filled some cups with hot chocolate, Adora Birch continued in her gentle way, "We have not yet reached the end of our story. And an unfinished story is like a house without a door to keep out the wind and rain and all that might harm you. And to close up our story, I have arranged for some little video demonstrations. So relax make yourself comfy."