Winding down

We've finished our shows, the gardening tools are stored, the roof of the new shop is up. An arctic outflow has ensured the lake is well-frozen, tonight they say it is going down to minus 29 Celsius.

The woodstove is always going now, with a pot of soup simmering, and a kettle or two of hot water on top, something roasting in the oven, a pan of yogurt forming on the shelf behind, boots drying beside, mitts and hats hanging nearby. There is an abundance of fuel now, thanks to the pine beetle, but every log is still precious, as we are aware of the costs of even this "free fuel".

We still need gas for the chainsaw and gas for the truck to pull the trees out. And there are other costs - the damage to other plant life when we fall and skid trees, the smoke from the burning...


We, it seems, cannot exist without adversely affecting our environment.

We chop wood, shovel snow, gaze out at the frozen lake, and ponder this predicament
while politicians discuss the future of the planet over wine and cheese.

We are thinking, always thinking.