Gets along with squirrels, too.
As of nightfall all the major parts (which had been previously sectioned into convenient 18 - 24 inch chunks) of the Eastern Hemlock, felled some months ago and lying in the yard on the nominal East side of the house ever since, have been relocated to the woodpile. And the lawn muncher was run over the area on which those major parts had been resting to render the orts remaining on the ground into many fine pieces. Some of the larger remnants did cause the mulch-em-up thingie to emit loud raucous sounds as they were rendered into finer particles that can more easily become one with the universe. Or succumb to increasing entropy. Or just lie there and decay.
Now all that remains of the hemlock is a pile of its lesser pieces. Would make an excellent bonfire if they weren’t so close to the house...
When my olde body recovers from the day’s activities (already know there will be some bruises due to certain reactions between some sizable major hemlock-parts encouraged by gravitational attraction and my softer body parts that didn’t move out of the way fast enough) I will decide whether to chainsaw the lesser parts to add to the woodpile or just load ‘em up in the trailer and dump ‘em out in the field with the purple loosestrife. After all, the purple loosestrife field already contains a pile or two or the really lesser parts of the hemlock - the little twiggy branches with the little greenie thingies sometimes called pine needles. Or hemlock needles. Those piles would make a great bonfire too.
Of course if I lit them up all the dry remnants of last season’s purple loosestrife would contribute to the conflagration and the local volunteer-fire-squelching peoples probably would not be too happy about extinguishing an entire five-or-so acres (or more if it really gets out of hand) of burning dry vegetation ...
‘Course the purple loosestrife isn’t purple yet.
Matter of fact, it’s not even making an appearance yet.
But it will.
Invasive plantthings are like that.