I’ve Come Here to Lose the Fog

The phrases, “living off the land,” “homesteading,” and “country living” usually bring to mind images of the abundance of the harvest and the beauty of the land. Me, I immediately recall my parents’ farm. I see lambs frolicking in the pasture, hay being combined and bailed, and asparagus growing in the garden. What I don’t imagine is snow and ice in the driveway and larges piles of wood that need to be stacked in the garage and brought in to the house regularly so that we can stay warm.

So far, winter maintenance has been the biggest chore we’ve enjoyed since living in the country. I’ll be honest: I have definitely not been bearing the brunt of the work. That joy has belonged mostly to my better half, who is the only one who knows how [and enjoys] to operate the tractor. Therefore, he has been blessed with the title of Head Snow Plow Operator and Wood Mover.

Still, I have enjoyed moving the wood that the tractor magically drops on the porch into the cold room so that it is located at a more convenient distance from the stove. There is something romantic not only about being warmed by a glowing fire, but also about knowing that the wood that is warming you got there by the fruits of your hard labour. Of course, it’s nothing like what the real country-folk do: we don’t spend our summer weekends felling trees and splitting wood, but until you’ve helped move a gigantic pile of firewood from the middle of the driveway into the garage and then into the house, you aren’t permitted to judge!

The point that I am making is that the act of keeping warm is yet another way in which we are connected to the earth beneath our feet. It’s not just the hard work that we crave. Those logs that go on the fire are trees, and the trees grew from the ground and were warmed by the sun and watered by the rain—just like our food. Even the oil or natural gas that you might be warming your house with is a product of the earth. It’s all just energy, cycling around and keeping us moving. It keeps you warm and alive, whether you are conscious of it or not.

So today, as I throw another log on the fire and sit at my table to tap out another one of these journal entries, I take a moment to remember that I am “just a cog in something turning.” Small, and yet significant.  I think it’s important that we don’t forget where we came from. It’s the same place everything came from. And it means we are all connected, whether we like it or not.

[10 points to the first person who can name the song and the artist quoted above]