It’s easy to be in these woods. Part of that is because they’re beautiful and part of that is because they’re nearby, just out the door. I don’t have to see anybody between here and there.
But what’s more important is the fact that the work I do in there stays there, and that I’ll stay here, near the work. The land’s not going anywhere and if I’m lucky, neither am I.
That bridge took a few hours and a few dollars, but I get a little thrill every time I walk down the slick part of the east hill and I remember my dogs don’t need to get their feet wet to get home.
But what’s more important is the fact that the work I do in there stays there, and that I’ll stay here, near the work. The land’s not going anywhere and if I’m lucky, neither am I.
That bridge took a few hours and a few dollars, but I get a little thrill every time I walk down the slick part of the east hill and I remember my dogs don’t need to get their feet wet to get home.
Being allowed to invest in a place, emotionally, financially, temporally, is altogether too rare. I’m doing my best not to forget just how lucky I am to have the privilege of this labo(u)r.
I guess the thing to do is keep building bridges and keep making pictures. I feel happy with the variety of beauty I’ve been able to look at so far, here, in this little project. It’s a lot of golden light through birch and pine, but that’s enough, I think.
I used to believe that life and love were about a spark, that first sight. But what I know now, or what I think I know now, is that everything is a garden. If you look closely and you put in the work, things have a way of blooming.
bozo.
