Rain was forecast for this Wednesday afternoon, so we collected ourselves quickly to get several hours in at the wood lot before the weather changed.
D. was here early to assist.
I thought of staying home to clean house and do laundry, but at the last moment the lure of the outdoors captivated me.
As we worked, much of the morning was brilliant with blue skies and fast moving billows of white cloud.
The wind began to pick up along toward noon and standing with feet planted wide, gazing into the tree tops, I marveled at the way trees are swayed by the wind and yet can [usually] keep their place, firmly rooted.
I rode into the cutting area behind D. on the 4-wheeler, but chose to walk out when the two loads of cut up 'logs' went down behind the tractor to be transferred to the larger trailer.
J. was slicing up chunks with a greater circumference today and sternly cautioned me not to be
hoiking them about. D. was lifting them with ease.
I placed a few on the trailer--just to show J. that I could [!] and spent the rest of the time towing branches out of the way and loading the smaller wood.
By the time the second load was transferred to the trailer, the sky had turned grey.
We were feeling hungry. I was quite tired. No one arrived with cake!
The Russell's dogs didn't choose to keep us company!
The wood that we are gathering is 'tops' left on the ground after a logging operation two years ago.
It is well seasoned. In some places on the logs the bark has begun to rot off and when the chunk of wood is moved all manner of creepy-crawlies emerge from the shelter of the bark 'sleeve' as it falls.
Supposedly all sensible snakes have gone into hibernation for the winter; I don't like to think that on a warmish day, such as we've had this week, they might come out to sun themselves.
Each autumn day brings changes. Now in our 4th season here we notice which of the dooryard trees shed their leaves at the first hint of fall. The maples in the back yard are mostly bare, yet the sweet gum tree has shed only a few leaves. The maples nearest the drive cling to their golden leaves as do the old apple trees and the venerable pear tree in the north meadow.
The late summer flowers along the roadsides have become fuzzy seed heads on brittle stalks. Each breath of wind sets the downy parachutes sailing, ensuring flowers for another summer.
Woodsmoke from our chimney hangs on the cool air of morning.
Dawn comes slowly, evening closes in early. The slanting sun plummeting behind the line of woods on our western boundary leaves us quickly finishing outdoor tasks and scurrying for the warmth of the house.
The urge to hibernate is strong!