“Woodcutter”

The gloomy lumberjack drove the ax into the trunk of Tolstoy, old oak. Chips flew out from under a steel blade. With honed movements, like a car, once he stuck an ax with a dull knock. Gray slightly covered eyes looked tiredly, but decisively. Muscular hands with brushes covered with coarse skin, like gloves, squeezed an ax. The foliage of oak trembled under the blows, and now he began to decline, falling under his weight, giving himself a creak like a cry. The ax fell silent for a couple of seconds, then sounded again, cutting the remnants of the conquered wood sticking out of the stump. When it was finished, the lumberjack did not even sweat. He went to the next tree, young aspen, there would be no problems with this. The tree fell very quickly next to the oak. The lumberjack simply continued to do what he always did.
Cutting a few dozen trees, he crouched on one of the fresh stumps. He took out an old bar with many chips, walked along the ax blade rather out of habit, than if necessary. Picking a handle on a stump, he continued his work.
Spruce fell very quickly. Approaching the next tree, the lumberjack hit. The ax bounced back with force, so the lumberjack lost his balance from surprise. Aiming better, he tried again. The ax seemed to hit the stone, only slightly scratched the bark and bounced again. The lumberjack looked up. There was a high pine in front of him, proudly rushing into the sky.
“And they didn’t take such,” the lumberjack croaked.
Taking the ax is more comfortable, he began to chop. Over time the ax bounced off. Over and over again, with stone stubbornness on his face, he beat at one point, where the scratch gradually became more and more. Lumberjack chopped to dark. He was sweating, his hands were trembling, in the light of the moon it was clear that the ax blade was covered with potholes, dull. Collapsing on the grass and taking his breath, he began to sharpen it. Such trees have already come across to him. Rare do not match the rest of the tanned for a dozen or two shocks. They had a goal, they clung to life with all their might, fought with him. But he will not give up, he cannot give up, while all these trees remain still.
Looking around, he saw a lot of stumps. They were visible in white points in the dark and went to the horizon and much further. He cut down millions of trees. There was a thicket ahead. If you climb the highest of them, there will still be nothing ahead of them but new trees. Before the lumberjack often thought when it would end. He can get an answer only when only rotting stumps remain. In the end, this pine is only one of the many. It took no more than five minutes to rest on the lumberjack. Getting up, he went to a tree, already gaping in the night of a knocked out wound, and set to work. With the first rays of dawn, the pine tree collapsed with a groan. A weak smile slipped on a weathered lumberjack’s face with a tired. He went to the next tree. “Only one of many. Maybe it would be easier to work with a scythe?”

The best comments

There was no literature for a long time, or https://gamblingsitesnotongamstop.co.uk/ I slept. Thanks for the story.

Who is the lumberjack and who are those trees – I am terribly imagined. Or maybe everything is not so scary?

The first time I hear about the story about Kosar, because I haven’t read more than one story about mowers. And this is not a reference for sure.