I'm off to work with wood today, cut up portions of "dead" yet standing trees (in my book, living via the decomposing process), being moved toward the next incarnation via our involvement.

Splitting, stacking, bending, breathing the woodsy scent keeps me well, twice warmed and humbled by the awesome structure of the once mighty giant moving onto another level.

In an attitude of appreciation, the maul severs cleanly.

In a lesser frame of mind, the work seems almost to pick a fight and often wins.

Call me crazy.