Hauling Wood

  What are you up to this weekend? It is Saturday here and right now my husband is outside chopping wood. It is such a satisfying sound. We do not actually have a wood stove and we got in trouble from the fire department for having fires in our back yard a while ago, however we have a lot of wood back there because when we moved into this house we had to chop down a tree. It has all been stacked up against our fence for months because I was holding onto hope that we would get a wood stove, but it is not to be.
   I was out side for a while this morning just carrying wood in my arms to my husband so that he could chop it smaller or use his chain saw to make it smaller. We then used a wheel barrow to take it to the road side of the fence so anyone could have it for free. Wood is such a blessing to have. As I carried it I marveled at the bark, the grain of the wood, the colors, the smell. When I grew up on our family farm our main source of heat was a wood stove. When my husband and I moved into the first home we bought we had a wood stove in the basement and a fire place in the living room. When we lived on our farm we had a massive 'king' wood stove that heated our entire house. I LOVE wood heat. I love the ritual of filling the wood box. When I was little I remember cold frosty nights, filling my arms with as much wood as I could carry and working as fast as I could to fill the wood box. I remember the spiders, the wood bugs, the dust and bark left on the front of your coat and your arms. If you piled it just so you could get about six or seven in your arms and still see over the pile. Our wood box was pretty big and it took a while to fill in the dark.
   I love the challenge it is to light the fire in the first place. Sometimes when I was young my mom and I just could not do it and it meant a cold cold night. My husband is a pro at getting a fire started. I love sitting in front of the crackling fire. It is inspiring for some reason. It is also adds a special sort of light and warmth to a room. When we moved to this house I really wanted to put a wood stove in. We were not able to for various reasons but I miss it. Just the little bit of time I spent carrying wood today brought me back to lots of happy places and made me thankful for the opportunities I have had. I am thankful for all those loads of wood I carried when I was young living on our farm. For the hours spent stacking the wood pile. For the strong arms of my father who spent so much time chopping the wood into usable sized blocks. There is something organic, something hearkening back to age old times, something that reminds me of earth and light and sustenance. The tree and all it is giving. Today a neighbor from down the road came and gratefully took every piece home. He takes his large family camping every weekend and the wood was a blessing. He even raked up the mess the bark and sawdust left on the other side of the fence for us.
 A wood fire ~ one of the most relaxing and mesmerizing and totally beautiful things we were gifted to use for heat. It brings warmth, protection and light in the darkness.