Walnut in the Woodpile. . .
I am a woodworker. I love the beauty of wood. I love making things from wood. I love the rich glistening, almost iridescent beauty of a finely finished piece of wood. I love the warmth of wood, compared to steel or glass or ceramic. I love looking at the growth rings in a piece of wood. Imagining the years of budding growth, and fruit bearing, and glorious autumnal colors, and then the time or dormancy. I love thinking of all the animals who were blessed by the tree from which the wood came. . . birds nesting and resting. . . squirrels scampering and gathering nuts and acorn. . . building their leafy dens high in the tree tops. Newborn fawns resting in the shade of the tree. . . I love wood. . . All that being said, Jackie and I have a wood burner, and we burn wood to heat our home. I do recognize that wood serves many purposes, but still when I gather logs to place upon the fire, I look a bit ruefully at the piece and wonder what might have been created from it. This year i...