As The Crow Flies

Afraid that I might not have enough firewood, I drove up to a part of my property that had been touched by a forest fire a couple of years back.  The dead pine up there was in good shape and small enough that I wouldn’t have to chop it.  I got covered in soot: my clothes, my shoes, my lungs.  The back of my pickup was a big sooty mess.  I don’t think I’ll go up there again, this year anyway.

I went to town and bought tarps to cover my wood piles because the weather forecast is calling for snow tomorrow.