Breaking Ground

On Wednesday afternoon I got a call from Jay. He had his quote ready, and the numbers were good. After a call to my parents, Jay had the job. The next day he was here pulling up the fence. The backhoe arrived late in the afternoon and got parked in the front yard. Today, that backhoe broke ground, and it was a sight, particularly when it knocked down the trees.

Don't get me wrong; I don't get a happy watching trees meet their end, especially when their nice shade trees as these were. What was wild was the way it, with all of its tons of hydraulic might, could move with subtlety that bordered on gentleness. You expect a machine of that size to move in jerks and spasms of power, like a power tool; it's on or off, sleeping or screeching. But the arm of this machine made sweeping gestures, smoothly. It slowly pushed each tree down. No one yelling “timber,” no hard crash as the trunk hit the earth. It laid it tree down, then scooped up the base and dragged each one away. I hesitate to say dragged because it was almost a carry, the trunk just above the roots resting in the crook of the joint between bucket and forearm.

Watching that backhoe smooth a pile of dirt and pat it down made me wonder about the popularity of Mecha in popular culture. Do we love these giant robotic vehicles because they give individuals the abilities of a giant?