I’m a simple guy. I have seasonal, primal interests.
In the spring, summer and fall, I tend to my vegetable garden. It satisfies my urge to dig my fingernails into the earth and make food emerge. It occasionally brings the family together — in planting, harvesting and eating.
But in the winter, I tend to piles of wood.
Piles of wood satisfy my urge to manipulate the skeletons of trees and subsequently create fire. They also bring the family together — to gather wood, huddle around the fireplace, ignite the flames, feel warmth and cook.
Yesterday our tree guy stopped by our home in his dump truck to unload this year’s big pile of wood. Despite the rain and chill, I enjoyed Thansgiving Eve sorting and loading that giant pile of wood into neat stacks in our backyard.
The job left me with a sore back, though that pile of wood represents many enjoyable nights in the winter months ahead.