
Brennen Miller: Felling Timber with Respect
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Time to read 4 min
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Time to read 4 min
After a 4:30 a.m. start and two-hour drive to the uneven ground of a dense tree farm, Brennen Miller gets to work. He’s been hired to safely fell the timber on this land, gathering an essential resource that will be used in the countless basic necessities of modern life, from telephone poles to new homes.
Miller is a contract timber faller and the owner of Top Heavy Timber LLC. As far back as he can remember, his life has been defined by the woods. Miller grew up surrounded by timber fallers in a forested community between Yosemite National Park and Sequoia National Park. It felt natural that he’d follow that path for his career.
“It was a historic logging community, a lot of tree work still in the area. That always put the idea into my mind,” Miller remembers. Fifteen years later, Miller is not only a business owner but also an expert educator and advocate for the logging industry.
THE TRUTH OF THE TRADE
To some people, the profession of timber faller brings up images of destroyed forests and barren land. Miller is quick to push back against this view, explaining his job has never been about demolishing trees.
“The timber harvest side of things is very misrepresented,” he explains. “We're providing product for basically any industry you can think of. Whether it's structural beams that go into buildings or houses, to feeder trees that we cut to make pencils and toothpicks, to fiber products…I can't even begin to fathom each industry that this resource goes to.”
Miller stresses that his work takes place on private land for the most part, where trees are grown for the purpose of harvest. Most of the trees Miller cuts come from tree farms—plots that are fenced, cultivated, and replanted so future generations can keep drawing from this resource.
“We’re not just going out to a national forest and chopping down old trees. This is privately owned land, and it’s designated for tree farming.”
CROPS THAT TAKE DECADES TO HARVEST
Miller encourages people to think of trees like they do other types of crops.
“A good way to think about it is these trees are essentially like corn. Once corn’s harvested, they replant, and they harvest again when it's ready. And that's exactly what happens out here, except instead of it being yearly or biannual, it’s a 30, 60, 80-year harvest cycle.”
The long regrowth cycle can make clear-cut timber farms seem destructive, but Miller stresses that each plot has already been logged, sometimes multiple times over the past century, and is replanted immediately after harvest. “We call it timber stand replacement, because that's exactly what we're doing,” he says.
For Miller, treating timber like any other crop never reduces his respect for the trees themselves. “The tree is providing something for us,” he says. “It has value to me monetarily, and in the products that I use. I respect the tree by not busting it to a thousand pieces by cutting it in the wrong place. You want to treat the timber, the stand itself, with respect and put it down in the manner that is most productive and efficient.”
PROTECTING COMMUNITIES FROM FIRE
Beyond timber harvest, Miller’s work often includes wildfire prevention, where he feels the deepest sense of purpose. In his view, timber fallers are on the frontlines not only of resource gathering but also of environmental safety, stepping in to remove hazards so firefighters can focus on containing blazes.
“Where my heart truly lies is the second half of the job,” he says. “During an active wildfire, we will go out and cut trees that are deemed too hazardous for the firefighters and allow the firefighters themselves to go try and stop the spread of wildfire. Along the way, we're helping the community, and God bless the people of these communities. They are extremely willing to help us.”
THE TRUE VALUE OF EXPERIENCE
Miller’s job requires decades of experience, judgment, and precision—qualities that can’t be replaced by a machine. Even with huge advancements in technology, it’s still a deeply dangerous business. Trees hundreds of feet tall crash onto rocky terrain, sending logs and debris flying. Timber fallers must anticipate every movement and act carefully to stay safe.
“You have to be alert and very intentional with your actions. You can't just be out here haphazardly, flinging your saw around. That's when people start getting hurt,” Miller adds.
After years in this industry, Miller knows his work never stops demanding humility and constant learning. “You make everything intentional, and you learn from every experience, every mistake, because it's an inherently dangerous industry. I’ve always said, if you’re not trying to learn, you need to get out because you're about to get hurt or you're about to get killed.”
PRESERVING THE CRAFT
We all benefit from the work of timber fallers. Their labor provides the raw materials for homes, buildings, tools, and the countless products we use every day. But the industry is changing. With the rise of mechanical harvesters, much of the easier work on flat ground is now done by machines, leaving hand cutters to take on the steepest, rockiest, and most dangerous jobs.
“One of the challenges we are facing is technological advances in the logging equipment,” Miller says. “There are fewer of us around now, and we tend to get pushed into the craziest, gnarliest, cheapest, rockiest ground you can ever think.”
And yet, Miller believes the future of the profession is worth preserving. For those willing to work hard and learn the craft, timber falling offers a life of both meaning and reward.
“There are days where it feels like a job. It's manual labor. But there's a definite sense of craftsmanship to it,” Miller says. “From the outside looking in, you're cutting a tree. But then you start picking the brain of someone who does it and you realize the nuance, the knowledge on specific species, how their fibers react to certain cuts…It's a craft.”
LEARN MORE ABOUT BRENNEN MILLER