When you last visited I had written about my old work clothes.
Let me get a little personal here, which I never intend to do except in a metaphorical sense.
I’m unpacking the old work clothes (figuratively) and heading back out to the woods. I start tomorrow, which happens to be April Fool’s Day. If that’s not a metaphor it’s certainly an irony.
The forests of Alabama are a Siren song for me. Being a forester is not easy work or even fun work all the time. I expect to get hot in summer, cold in winter, and enjoy the combined four weeks we call fall and spring. I eagerly anticipate sunrises and sunsets, pouring rain, muddy boots, and briar patches. I can’t wait to get back in the woods instead of just seeing them pass by on the sides of the highways.
I’ve discovered that it’s what I need to really be alive again. Not just breathing. Living.
I’ve spent over three years working for a non-profit trade association, alternating between sitting in an office and burning up the highways in attempt to help loggers survive a lousy economy and a government (Federal, State, and Local) that seems to be hell-bent on eliminating their profession. I’ve talked, written, and politicked. I’m not sure that I accomplished much, and that’s unfortunate, because loggers are worth saving. They are, by and large, among the last of the true mom-and-pop businesses left in the U.S. They are, by and large, some of the finest people I have met.
Now I’ll only work with a few. But they will be my few, and I’ll work to help them thrive.
I expect that there will be some (mainly those who long for an office job) who will think I’ve lost my mind. They believe the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.
Sometimes it is.
But sometimes it’s only that way because they use more fertilizer.