The splitting and stacking wrapped up earlier than I estimated it would. All told, I ended up with a little more than half-a-cord of pristine Silver Maple for the fire.

I found it piled out by the curb in front of a house I’d passed on one of my evening walks around the neighborhood; yet another indication of just how abundant my life currently seems to be.

I’m not really sure of where this is all headed, and I don’t actually feel as if I need to know. For now, it’s a chilly Sunday afternoon, the ornamental Pear trees across the street are blooming as if someone dared them to, and I’m sitting in my woodshop listening to Tom Waits, completely aware of every single bit of it…