The Turn Of Thoughts

We approach the middle of February and last night on the long drive home from Lake Placid I had plenty of time to think. My work there is only part time now since December. That’s fine with me because I have more time to write and get caught up on some of the things I let slide. Speaking of time it’s become a frequent subject of discussion with a young coworker of mine on the project. In his late twenties his perception of it is noteworthy given my obsession with it. Despite the differences in our ages we walk common ground when discussing time and how we choose to manage it. We also shared thoughts on memories or lack there of sometimes. The realization that we can’t remember everything and certain things are lost in the haze of busy existence. I exposed him to the blog the other day. I then encouraged him to consider writing private life journals as a way of preserving his own memories. I kept hand written journals for years. (long before the creation of this blog and the very public sharing of my personal life).Just before beginning this post I did a quick review of my previously published titles and content.Time is a reoccurring subject and one I mention rather often. Some of my followers have told me they enjoy the stories of my life on the farm and roaming the forests of Macomb as a boy. For me those stories bring back many memories! I hope to continue to blend the old with the new this year as the seasons bring the different tasks and hobbies into play. A warm stretch of weather these past few days has certainly aided in turning my thoughts to the upcoming syrup season. Mid February does that to me regardless of temperature typically. I begin to consider those activities of winter that must be experienced before syrup season begins or they will need to wait till next winter. That’s a fact of time.There’s a certain energy in the sunshine now that can’t be denied or ignored. Dripping icicles and tiny rivulets of runoff that begin to flow bring a certain expectation to lovers of producing maple syrup. It’s almost that time of year again! I wrote several posts last year about sugaring if you haven’t read them. I will no doubt take a path of redundancy again this spring writing about sugaring. I suppose that I am trying to set a stage of sorts. One where the actors perform a yearly tradition. If asked what my message might be I would have to say that it’s one of the magic of seasonal transition and the power it brings to my now. Something that I have written about many times. Something real that can’t be bottled or sold. Something elemental in its simplicity and interconnected with nature as only certain experiences can be. If this seems like my same old story it’s because it is! There is a solid positive energy in traditional hobby and task. In a world of ever changing circumstances there is comfort in the approach of sugaring. Predictable to a degree yet still very variable. As I enter the forest as part of a daily routine I will find peace there despite the physical challenges the weather may bring. Or the challenges of life itself. I learned this fact of time most painfully once. The year 2007 was to be the final syrup season that I would share with my father although I didn’t know it at the start. I was busy with balancing the realities of time. A household, a young son, and my barn wood salvage business. Being able to help my father with the annual syrup season was a big part of why I wanted to be self employed in the first place. It was a time thing make no mistake of it. I temporarily left construction suddenly in March of 2006 after becoming ill with a double lung infection from breathing fire proofing all winter on an inside project. The year from March 2006 to March 2007 was a year that I will never forget! Freedom and a new lifestyle where I chased a dream of controlling time. I had done it! Taken control of time! But life is never that simple it seems. That year changed me though. So many great memories and then those I would like to forget. My father began to have some changes in health in the winter of 2007. It started with some strange accidents and memory quirks at times. But things were pretty normal for the most part. We tapped trees in mid March as was our custom but my father was not feeling all that great and went to his doctor. He underwent some tests soon after.He was fearful of dementia he told me one day while we were working together. His sudden changes in mental state were a concern. And then the fateful day. I was boiling sap in the evaporator and could see him walking towards the sugar house. He seemed bent over and I knew something wasn’t quite right. He stepped into the sugar house and we exchanged some simple banter about the quality of the syrup or subjects of that nature. He surprised me suddenly with an sudden outburst. “ I have good news! I don’t have Alzheimer’s! But I do have brain tumors. Two of them on one side of my head.They don’t know much more than that right now.” To this day I can’t remember what I said to him then. But I will never forget my sudden thoughts. I knew at that moment that we would be losing our father. Me a trusted friend. My son his grandfather. I know it sounds very negative but I was being painfully honest with myself. There were times in the coming weeks when I would be hopeful and positive. The doctors would operate and cure him we prayed. But lose him we did by the middle of June. To honor him I wrote my first ever rhyming story “For Pop”-A son’s story of life. And just like that, the aspiring writer in me began to evolve. Why do I share such a sad personal story? Because of time. It is not certain and not without circumstances. It is not guaranteed. I am forever thankful for whatever force told me to become self employed in 2006. The time that I shared with my father that year and into 2007 cannot be altered by any circumstances.It was carved out with deed not words of wishful thinking. I ultimately returned to construction for another 10 years but never again questioned my drive to manipulate time itself. As for what followed in 2009 when cancer was found in my body?Life would take on new meaning and purpose. Time would be on my side throughout that fateful journey. As in “they found my cancer in time to rid my body of it”. And in these moments of my present now I know of several who wrestle greatly with time and much more.Just how much remains for them? A stark reality for all who love them.All this may seem dark and cloudy in the face of a large storm. I apologize. It is not dark to me. It is just very real that’s all. Immortality is not a gift of natural world nor should it be considered.Acknowledging our own mortality need not be dark or foreboding . It’s rather the opposite really. It’s that chance for us to truly reflect on our choices for today and for tomorrow. How best to spend our time and are we happy with our choices. It’s about saying why not do that? Why wait? Why not take that vacation or visit that person? There’s not always a clear path in front of us. It’s not always easy to make the best choices or recognize them as the best ones. For me the answers may be found staying in motion I have decided. Chasing the seasons of nature and finding the magic hidden in each one of them. For time and love are greatly connected I feel. That’s a tough one to explain. If you took the time to read this far thank you! After all I took the time to write it for you! I promise a fun story soon! I simply ask you to reflect on time today and find the small blessings that surround you. ✍️

Colossus

Yesterday was our annual trip to a local tree farm to cut our Xmas trees. One for Zane and I at Hill House. One for Jennifer and her daughter Kelsey at their house. Jennifer’s nephew Garrett gets included in both houses for a double dip of Xmas fun! As we wandered the tree farm the inevitable affliction we named Tree Cutting Conundrum Syndrome would strike us with an onslaught of symptoms! These include sweaty palms, anxiety, difficulty concentrating, and an over all state of panic! What causes TCCS? The desire to find a perfect tree! That one tree in the forest of hundreds desire! That wandering aimlessly,not settling, and stubborn need to get that perfect tree!!Kelsey was chosen to pick out their tree which she succeeded in doing by the time we had reached the back forty of the tree farm. She seemed largely immune to TCCS. A benefit of living in California for the last few years perhaps?Zane was in charge of finding our tree. He too seemed rather symptom free. I had mentioned that we could have a larger tree this year. I was stricken badly with a case of TCCS! I pointed out a few possible trees to him but he declined them. “I know the one I want Dad! It’s near the entrance to the field.We exited the back forest with Jennifer and Kelsey’s tree over my shoulder. A small, nicely shaped fragrant white spruce. Zane had trouble locating his tree upon our return to the start of our foray. We searched for awhile until he found it. I was expecting to see an average sized tree. When I saw him gazing up with unbridled enthusiasm at a white spruce of monstrous proportions I was taken back! I quickly said no! It’s too big! Too tall! It has a narrow section in the middle! It’s not good enough! His disappointment was obvious. I walked around looking for another with him then decided to go back! The tree wasn’t perfect. Never chosen many times over the years for one reason or another.It had grown far beyond most people’s vision of a Xmas tree. But not Zane’s. The tree spoke to him somehow. I suddenly thought. Why not? We’ve got enough room. This is 2020 after all! A year of big changes.Big challenges. Big decisions with big consequences. Big moves in new directions. If ever there was a year to cut a large tree this was it! I named it Colossus! A tree this size needs a name! It took Zane some time to fell it. Some effort to get it into the bed of the truck. Getting it stood up in our house was no easy task either. Colossus needed a haircut to fit! Standing tall in our house Colossus makes a statement. Not perfect in shape but certainly in the spirit of nature. This year will be difficult to forget for all its been. As will this giant of Xmas trees! We studied the growth rings. We estimate the tree to 20 plus years old. There’s history there. The narrow band of branches possibly the result of deer browsing in the deep snows of a harsh winter. The dry years apparent in narrow growth rings. Colossus must have been a tiny seedling during the destructive ice storm of 1998. We felt a certain remorse in cutting it. But the neighboring seedlings will flourish in the more abundant sunlight produced by the tree’s removal. Colossus was planted to be harvested. A harvest that waited years for our arrival in the year 2020. This tree will bless our home in many ways. Sweet forest scents. Presence and dignity in that tall and sturdy stance. That annual time when we truly invite nature into our homes. The new year will come and Colossus will end up next to our bird feeder for awhile. We’ve made some happy memories in just one short day gracing our home with this imperfect behemoth. We’ll make more! Colossus will live forever! In our hearts and in our MOONTABS!