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| "Welcome to my new office." |
She has travelled the road before.
This was my first time.
Outloud, I was admiring the side of the road that has been brushed.
I was admiring the ditching, surprised that the water can now continue to the bottom of the hill – no pooling along the way.
I was admiring the gorgeous new view that has been opened up.
And most of all I was admiring and curious about the thin line of smoke rising from Marcia’s property.
So much of the brush is gone that we could see a small figure beside a fire. Knowing it could only be Greg we approached. He called out, “Welcome.”
It wasn’t long before he was explaining to us how he keeps the fire going.
He has a large circle of rocks there – each probably more than 2 feet by 2 feet, and irregular in shape (which is what give the circle such beauty).
Because I love rocks, even moving rocks, I spent a long time admiring the ones the circle his firepit.
Inside of the rocks is a circle of stumps, all sitting about 2 ½ feet high. They are drying out, he says. After a day or two by the fire, they can be split and he puts new logs there to dry out. Inside of those round logs, he has his twigs and sticks burning, fueled by a torch from the outside propane tank.
There is a crackling sound as they burn. I get closer, but I can’t feel the heat. I think to myself, no use bringing tofu-furters up here for a party.
“I have to keep putting twigs on top of the fire and occasionally pushing it down to keep it going,” Greg said, giving us a demo. “I am going to get as much burning done as I can before I leave for Calgary on Friday.”
I asked if we could take a picture.
“Sure,” he said, posing beside the fire.
The lot has a breathtaking view which I enjoyed for as long as I was there.
It looks so good because Paul Vike pulled out the large stumps when he was here with his bull dozer.
And it looks good because Greg is doing all of that burning. And it looks good because it just is good.
Thinking to begin our walk back home, we heard sounds from the lot to the south of us, which is also above us.
It wasn’t long before he was explaining to us how he keeps the fire going.
He has a large circle of rocks there – each probably more than 2 feet by 2 feet, and irregular in shape (which is what give the circle such beauty).
Because I love rocks, even moving rocks, I spent a long time admiring the ones the circle his firepit.
Inside of the rocks is a circle of stumps, all sitting about 2 ½ feet high. They are drying out, he says. After a day or two by the fire, they can be split and he puts new logs there to dry out. Inside of those round logs, he has his twigs and sticks burning, fueled by a torch from the outside propane tank.
There is a crackling sound as they burn. I get closer, but I can’t feel the heat. I think to myself, no use bringing tofu-furters up here for a party.
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| "May I hold your hand saw", I ask,sensing a good photo shot with a nod to American Gothic. |
I asked if we could take a picture.
“Sure,” he said, posing beside the fire.
The lot has a breathtaking view which I enjoyed for as long as I was there.
It looks so good because Paul Vike pulled out the large stumps when he was here with his bull dozer.
And it looks good because Greg is doing all of that burning. And it looks good because it just is good.
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| "I cut each of the roots off before throwing the stump in the fire." |
High-south.
Thinking it was Shauna and David calling to us, we walked up to their home, only to find it was them out walking their dogs.
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| ... piece by piece into the fire ... |
They weren’t calling to us at all.
So curious when the dogs run to us. I take a firm stance with my feet because if it is going to be dog-bumps-human, I am going to go flying.
But the largest dog stops a few feet ahead of me, his tongue hanging out, dripping and panting for approval.
The huge dog can be outrun by the little mutt who is only 18 inches high and he circles me a few times, probably a victory run for the large slow dog to see.
We visit for a while with the younger Pilling couple.
David’s lot was brushed three years ago and now the undergrowth is over three feet high and continuing to climb upward.
“I am going to have to rent a brush saw next year,” he said, “so I can maintain our view.”
David and Shauna had not been calling our names, we found out.
So curious when the dogs run to us. I take a firm stance with my feet because if it is going to be dog-bumps-human, I am going to go flying.
But the largest dog stops a few feet ahead of me, his tongue hanging out, dripping and panting for approval.
The huge dog can be outrun by the little mutt who is only 18 inches high and he circles me a few times, probably a victory run for the large slow dog to see.
We visit for a while with the younger Pilling couple.
David’s lot was brushed three years ago and now the undergrowth is over three feet high and continuing to climb upward.
“I am going to have to rent a brush saw next year,” he said, “so I can maintain our view.”
David and Shauna had not been calling our names, we found out.
They had been calling their dogs. But it was hard to tell over the crackling of Greg’s fire, and the rumbling of the CPR.
Arta
I wish I were there. The view is spectacular. Greg is having too much fun!
ReplyDeleteI wish you were here as well, Wyona. This is a lovely part of the year -- a quiet part of the year which feels calming and makes me reflective, maybe introspective. I hardly see Moiya, who is here on the property. Even though we are probably in the same bubble, all of the families here are respectful of protocols and keep to themselves, mostly. A good Covid plan.
Deleteamazing. and i love thinking about the dogs!
ReplyDeleteI don't know the names of both dogs. Only the name of the big one -- Doobie. That is the dog who was penned up with food and water for 2 days. The dog got out of the pen, found a way to get into the house, and was waiting for them in the bedroom when they came home. An unusual dog, that Doobie.
ReplyDelete