The destroyers have come and done their worst. For more than a week we endured the agonizing death-rattle of life being ripped, ground and torn from a once vibrant, living forest. Now the clearcutters have gone somewhere else to create more desolation, leaving behind them the silence of death where a once vibrant ecosystem used to resound with the lovely harmonies of life and growth.

No more will the beautiful chorus of frogs that so delighted us with their evening songs be heard. Their home in a little bog just down the road has been obliterated. So too have the homes and habitats of all the lovely birds that used to sing joyous morning tributes to the renewal of life. The wondrous, life-giving forest where moose and deer were once common is now a gut-wrenching series of ugly scars slashed on the face of the earth. There is nothing so desolate as the silence of death where life once abounded.

Our area is part of the Acadian Forest, and home to 32 native tree species (yellow birch, red spruce, American beech, sugar maple) providing habitat for wide-ranging mammal and bird populations. Today less than one per cent of original old Acadian forest remains, and the clearcutting rampage continues. A private woodlot next to us was sold recently, and the new owner immediately clearcut it.

Praise the Lord

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