Wood
As the spliting maul ripped through another chunk of hard maple, I stopped to watch the sun set on Mt Hunger. I laid down my tool and sat down to soak in the view. My lower back aches and hands are sore, out of practice I guess. Like a busy squirrell hording away nuts, I’ve been laying in a supply of fire wood that will be my only source of heat during the long northern winter that lays ahead. That lovely smell of fresh split wood only adds to the beauty of these hills I hold so dear. Nothing is prettier than the sunsets up here. As the sun sinks lower behind the hills, I am reminded that “daylights ‘a burnin”. Only a few precious moments of daylight left. Boy the days are getting shorter, a sense of urgency shakes me out of my needed rest. There is a lot more wood to put up before the snow starts flyin’. I pitty the man who turns a dial and has instant heat. For me, half the joy in getting warm is knowing your own two hands provided the fuel. Its a feeling of satisfaction that you can’t put into words.