A Snowy Day
11/11/12 04:42
We finally got snow yesterday. We’ve been waiting a long time in hopes of precipitation. After two days of fog, the snow started to fall a little after 7 in the morning. It was lovely. The large flakes drifted lazily down as the turkeys walked across the yard.
I spend a couple of hours in the morning splitting wood at our neighbor’s place. We had planned to have a splitting party for our church’s firewood project, but the snow kept the rest of the crew away. I didn’t need to worry about the snow. We have a four-wheel-drive car and it is just a little distance home, so even if the roads got slippery, I wouldn’t have far to go. As it turned out, the county plows were working the roads by the time we finished so I had no trouble driving at all. The three of us worked with a single splitter for a little while. We split a bit over a cord of wood, so we didn’t feel bad about our output.
It was a delightful morning. The snow was absolutely gorgeous. There was no wind. And the temperature wasn’t too cold to work outside. We kept warm stacking the newly split wood. There are few pleasures in life that are sweeter than working outdoors with neighbors on a beautiful day.
Their dog was delighted with the weather. She ran around chasing snowflakes and birds in the field. She dug under the logs trying to get at the mice. She ran back and forth. She was just glad to have us outside with her in the woods on a crisp morning.
We are generations removed from our ancestors for whom splitting wood was a necessary survival skill. Although we have wood stoves in our homes, they are supplementary heat systems. We can use other methods to keep warm in the cold weather and are not dependent upon producing a minimum amount of wood for our homes. We split wood because our neighbors need it during the long winters out on the prairies and because we have a lot of wood.
The bark beetles have been working their way through the hills. Lots of pine trees are dying from the onslaught. But in areas where there is aggressive treatment, the process can be slowed. Our neighbors had 170 trees marked last year as infected by the beetles. They cut and chunked the wood according the instructions from the foresters and this year, when the foresters came back to inspect, there were only two trees that needed to be cut. This doesn’t mean that the beetle infestation is over. The beetles are still in the National Forest and the papers say that it would take millions of dollars that the Forest Service doesn’t have in order to cut out all of the infected trees. So the beetles will spread. More trees will die. Dead and dying trees provide additional fuel in an already dry forest and we will see more fires and the fires we have will be more intense.
The morning was simply a time of joy. How fortunate we are to live in a place of such great beauty. How wonderful it is to experience four seasons. How refreshing snow is after months of drought. The trees had been glazed by ice because of the fog, so the snow was sticking in the tops and there was a beautiful view from every direction. The work was light, but enough to feel like we were accomplishing something and the friendship of neighbors is incalculable.
There used to be a beer advertisement that showed a gang of men sitting around a campfire drinking beer and the slogan was “It doesn’t get any better than this.” I thought that it was such a silly ad. I could think of a hundred different things that are better than sitting around drinking beer with a bunch of guys. I know that different people have different tastes, but for me, splitting wood on the first snowy day of the autumn is better than that. Sitting on the deck watching the sunrise with a fresh cup of coffee is better. Talking late into the night with my wife is better. Playing with my grandson is better. Rowing a boat that I made with my own two hands across a lake is better. I can think of a whole lot of things that are better.
The bottom line, however, is that I am an incredibly fortunate person. If I had poetic abilities, I would try to write a psalm. I understand the psalms of praise and the songs of God’s goodness. This life we have is filled with wonder and beauty and joy. It is a miracle that our eyes enable us to see depth and color in such a way that the sparkle of the snowflakes gives us joy. It is a miracle that we form friendships just for the joy of being together. It is a miracle that we can form bonds with other animals so that their antics make us laugh. It is a miracle that in the midst of a crowded world we have been given enough space to get out into the country and enjoy the silence of snow in the woods. It is a miracle that we have muscles to do work and that after decades of living we still can feel the simple pleasure of sitting down with friends after a bit of work.
Who needs a gym and a spa when you can work outside in the snow and come inside and wrap your hands around a steaming cup of coffee? I’ve never been much for health clubs, but I am fortunate to live in a place where there are a hundred healthy activities just outside my door.
As the hymn refrain goes, “Lord of all, to thee we raise this our hymn of joyful praise.”
I’ve got just a skiff of snow to shovel this morning. It is just enough to remind me that there is work to be done, but not too much to do before heading for church. I’ll need to drive a bit more cautiously than usual. It could be a bit slippery, but the beauty that surrounds us is well worth a moment of caution. Indeed it is a hymn of joyful praise.
It was a delightful morning. The snow was absolutely gorgeous. There was no wind. And the temperature wasn’t too cold to work outside. We kept warm stacking the newly split wood. There are few pleasures in life that are sweeter than working outdoors with neighbors on a beautiful day.
We are generations removed from our ancestors for whom splitting wood was a necessary survival skill. Although we have wood stoves in our homes, they are supplementary heat systems. We can use other methods to keep warm in the cold weather and are not dependent upon producing a minimum amount of wood for our homes. We split wood because our neighbors need it during the long winters out on the prairies and because we have a lot of wood.
The bark beetles have been working their way through the hills. Lots of pine trees are dying from the onslaught. But in areas where there is aggressive treatment, the process can be slowed. Our neighbors had 170 trees marked last year as infected by the beetles. They cut and chunked the wood according the instructions from the foresters and this year, when the foresters came back to inspect, there were only two trees that needed to be cut. This doesn’t mean that the beetle infestation is over. The beetles are still in the National Forest and the papers say that it would take millions of dollars that the Forest Service doesn’t have in order to cut out all of the infected trees. So the beetles will spread. More trees will die. Dead and dying trees provide additional fuel in an already dry forest and we will see more fires and the fires we have will be more intense.
There used to be a beer advertisement that showed a gang of men sitting around a campfire drinking beer and the slogan was “It doesn’t get any better than this.” I thought that it was such a silly ad. I could think of a hundred different things that are better than sitting around drinking beer with a bunch of guys. I know that different people have different tastes, but for me, splitting wood on the first snowy day of the autumn is better than that. Sitting on the deck watching the sunrise with a fresh cup of coffee is better. Talking late into the night with my wife is better. Playing with my grandson is better. Rowing a boat that I made with my own two hands across a lake is better. I can think of a whole lot of things that are better.
The bottom line, however, is that I am an incredibly fortunate person. If I had poetic abilities, I would try to write a psalm. I understand the psalms of praise and the songs of God’s goodness. This life we have is filled with wonder and beauty and joy. It is a miracle that our eyes enable us to see depth and color in such a way that the sparkle of the snowflakes gives us joy. It is a miracle that we form friendships just for the joy of being together. It is a miracle that we can form bonds with other animals so that their antics make us laugh. It is a miracle that in the midst of a crowded world we have been given enough space to get out into the country and enjoy the silence of snow in the woods. It is a miracle that we have muscles to do work and that after decades of living we still can feel the simple pleasure of sitting down with friends after a bit of work.
As the hymn refrain goes, “Lord of all, to thee we raise this our hymn of joyful praise.”
I’ve got just a skiff of snow to shovel this morning. It is just enough to remind me that there is work to be done, but not too much to do before heading for church. I’ll need to drive a bit more cautiously than usual. It could be a bit slippery, but the beauty that surrounds us is well worth a moment of caution. Indeed it is a hymn of joyful praise.