What a masterful storytelling... Congratulations!! Poor horses though.. but excellent job on communicating this reality.... with all the machinery and inconveniences we still impose undue suffering on these animals
Brent and Steve have been hauling lumber for twenty years. Brent is single, Steve's been married 3 times. I talk about them like they're friends, but they've said about 5 words to each other in all that time. Just two guys who happen to have the same unusual job hauling for the same people on the same shift.
One day, Steve hears the cart behind him hesitate. He looks back to see Brent twisting in his seat. Steve stops his horses. He can feel something is wrong. Brent stands up and then tumbles to the street. Steve has already leapt off his cart and is bending over him. He's... not moving... not breathing.
"Brent," Steve whispers. "Brent!" he shouts. He cups Brent's head in his hands. The beep of a car startles him. In a sudden rage he runs over to the car and starts pounding on the windshield. The driver pushes him over with the door. Steve is sobbing, sobbing. Everything he has ever lost looms above him like the logs on his cart.
As the late-afternoon sun dipped behind the jagged spine of the Carpathian Mountains, Lucian adjusted his grip on the reins, the red tassels flickering against his grey mare’s headpiece like tiny flames warding off the ancient spirits of the forest. stacked high with fresh-cut timber, the heavy wooden căruță groaned under its load, its iron-rimmed wheels rumbling along the cracked asphalt. He stole a glance toward the darkening shadows of Transylvania’s outer treeline, knowing that whatever stalked them from the deep woods would not dare cross onto the open highway until twilight had completely claimed the valley. 😉
Eco-Friendly Forestry, no fuel required. These men search for dead and dying trees and cut them up to return to the town for firewood. Listen their feet clopping on the ground. Horse logging is very arduous and dangerous work and your picture shows us how the logs are transported. But the trade is not for everyone. The horses go up the hills and into places that a bulldozer can't. These men are like folk hero lumberjack Paul Bunyon.. almost superhuman. They must be strong and willing to risk injuries. In the end, everyone is grateful for bringing home the logs and for giving space to the forest for regeneration without harming other vegetation.
everyday is
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