I've become obsessed with trees and wood. But a disclaimer: It's really, really hard to make an interesting picture of a bunch of trees (technically called a forest, or “woods”).
They're just … boring photos. Mine seem to be, anyway.
But I'm obsessed. With wood for fires: cutting it, splitting it, getting rid of bad wood, starting to dry out good wood for the winter. With the kinds of trees on the land: pine, oak, fir – whatever those damn Christmas trees were – and I think maple.
On the eastern side I've found a a small grove of cherry trees. But the woods are pretty dense and so the fruit is only growing higher up. There are a couple of apple trees that remind me of my backyard as a kid.
All I see is green, out my windows. Just green.
Ultimately, I'd like to clean up this piece of land. Air it out, let some trees go so others can actually be healthy. And then there's the ridiculous task of the rose bushes. Two things I'll never look at the same way again: Roses and Christmas trees. Awful things, piled up in monstrous clumps that take forever to haul and burn.
Sometimes it stresses me out. Making meaningful progress seems like an impossible, eternal task. But then I think about it like yoga, actually. There's nothing to be achieved, nothing that has to be done. The size of the task, the un-doable-ness of it, is what makes it worthwhile.
This is a really boring photo but a pretty good example of what I've got. Multiply that heap by 1,000. Or so,.
