Toxic Masculinity

On a sunny day last week, I revved up my chainsaw and trudged out just beyond our garden and henhouse to cut down several trees. I notched a large dead tree and then began the cut on the other side. Suddenly the tree snapped near the ground and fell. With chainsaw in hand, I stumbled backward. Fortunately, the tree fell in the general direction I wanted. After my heart slowed to a normal pace, I began cutting on another dead tree. This went well until I heard the snapping of wood and the tree wobbled. Unsure where it would fall, I again stumbled backward, but this time my feet tangled in bramble, and I fell. The tree thundered to the ground across two fences and terrorized our chickens but missed me.