Since my tendonitis became chronic (and other ailments that have discovered me!), I have found that I need to adjust many things in my life. I have been heating my house with wood since 1978, and still love cutting firewood. These days, the only way I can do it without trashing my body is to run one tank of gas through the saw, and then put it away for the rest of the day. That usually translates into about a half hour of cutting.
This morning I was driving down to the woodlot where we sold off 10 black walnut trees last winter. I have not yet cut up many of the tops that resulted from that harvest, and wanted to continue picking away at the task. There is a small creek which runs through the corner of Sanctuary at this woodlot; the water is high from recent snowmelt and heavy rains.
I saw a small critter run across the road ahead of me where the water crosses under the road. I had a feeling what it was, as it is too cold today for woodchucks to be out and about. Indeed, when I got to the creek, I slowed to a stop to see a gorgeous mink standing there staring back at me. He quickly scampered up the creeks edge, over fallen trees, around stumps, soon out of sight.
It’s been years since I have seen a mink in the wild. I think I smiled during the entire chainsaw venture this morning. Sore hands and all.