These are pictures of my grandfather cutting and hauling firewood. In the last few years, I have learned to love this same work, even though I don’t heat with wood and I no longer have access to the woods Grandpa owned and worked. I remember cutting wood with him. There was cutting, stacking, and carrying firewood into the house. But also the clearing of trees and brush later on, up to his last summer here. I distinctly recall him saying to one of his siblings on the phone about me, “Er kann die Chainsaw handeln” (He can handle the chainsaw). There is something uniquely satisfying about cutting wood. But there is something even more fulfilling to pick up some of the same worn-out tools and carry on the work begun by your fathers.
A Shepherd's Story 