Posts Tagged ‘woods’

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Cast of Wonders 698: The Green Man’s Guest

First published in the collection Different Times and Other Places from NewCon Press in 2024

Image by Ken from Pixabay

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The Green Man’s Guest

by Juliet E. McKenna

Trees die, like every living thing. Left to their own devices, they’ll gradually succumb to old age after decades or even centuries. If they’re not so lucky, a storm or a nearby tree toppled by strong winds can bring them crashing down. These days, if they’re really unlucky, some spreading blight can make felling them essential.

However it happens, whoever’s in charge of that back garden or public park or private woodland faces the same question. How do we get the stump out? What do we do about the hole? Even a smallish tree has a sizeable root ball.

Or… how about doing something else? I don’t know who came up with the idea of turning tree stumps into sculptures instead of grubbing them out, but as soon as I came across it, I wanted to give it a try. I did a load of research online and watched a lot of videos. I bought some specialist power tools and taught myself to use them on scrap timber from various projects. I’ve been taking care of the estate’s woods at Blithehurst Manor for the past few years, so I reckoned I’d get my chance sooner or later. (Continue Reading…)

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Cast of Wonders 416: The Wolf and the Woodsman

Originally published on the author’s blog

Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 45:32 — 42.2MB)

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The Wolf and the Woodsman

by T Kingfisher

Here. Listen.

I’ll tell you a story.

Listen.

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was probably about twelve or thirteen, but that was an age when children were older than their years and expected to do real work and help with the harvest, so perhaps she was only nine or ten.

Her hood wasn’t red. Red dye is expensive and doesn’t hold well, and nobody who had to dye it themselves would make a red cloak for a child who could be expected to outgrow it by autumn. That was added later because it alliterated. It wasn’t a riding hood, either—the only horse she ever rode was the broad-backed giant that drew her father’s plow. Still, we make do. (Continue Reading…)