My Wild
Some of my fondest days have been spent in wild places where few men trod, cowboys rode on paints and cattle roamed vast tracts of ranch land. I watched a roadrunner lift a rattler, spin it in midair and kill it in a single move with it pointed beak. A wild boar with three-inch tusks in full charge is a scary encounter and a squealing Javalina flushed from the undergrowth will always set your heart a beating. This is wildness that is hard to explain and hard too to beat. I like such self-isolation in wilderness realms better than the streets of any big city or town and I am less fearful there than in the midst of humanity. But it doesn’t have to be that kind of wild.
Wild life is my next best to working wood and making. I seek the side of a pond each day and sit. The wait is often worth it and sometimes I simply stumble on beauty in unexpected ways. As I dropped down near the water’s edge a kingfisher took off ahead of me and from a perch overhanging the water, shot like a blue dart in an arc to the opposite side of the pond. Disappointed yet delighted in the same breath, I noticed that it wasn’t startled away but just ready to move. I dropped to my haunches slowly and waited and lo, he came back in swift and direct flight just two meters from me and I froze each wingbeat as he passed me. Yet once more I waited for whatever else might come and the mother mallard with her two newly hatched bundles of fluff skipped, trotted and paddled across the water in pursuit of tiny midges to feed their ever-hungry stomachs on. This too I loved.
My visitors today were one cuckoo, a nuthatch, treecreeper, dunnock, mixed warblers including blackcap and all in a space of time of under one hour. Allin all there are three sets of mallard families.
One of them is two months old and the six out of the nine young are now full-feathered and almost the same size as their mother. It’s hard to conceive that 8 weeks ago they too were skittish little bundles of fluff stealing the limelight from all else there on the same pond. There is also a large family of 9 mallard babes just a week or so old.
The flowers are all wild where I walk. Here is a dog-rose that’s hard to beat don’t you think. I cannot count the wildflowers on my walk but such things enrich my day as much as my working wood.
I noticed this in others as well. Joy in creating paired with joy in the created.
I struggle to find quiet places. I live just outside Liverpool, and it’s hard to find anywhere truly silent and peaceful. This is why I retreat to the attic to do woodworking.
I spent a few years working in south Africa. Some of my fondest memories are driving to the Kruger national park, seeking out a watering hole, switching off the engine and listening to the sounds of the Bush. What a joy to see a family of elephant come down for a drink, or the odd lion m, impala, giraffe. Stunning.
Hello Paul, I too lived and worked in RSA in construction not to far from the Kruger park, and I also have many happy memories of sitting in the bush. Happy days.
Thank you for the pictures Paul. Like you I enjoy being outside, My wife and I live in a city but we have access to parks with natural areas, we are also a short drive from the Finger Lakes area and a 3 hour drive from the Adirondacks where we primitive camped. Quiet and peaceful unless the wildlife is acting up is refreshing..
You attend the “Church of the Blue Sky,” as I call it. A religious place, non-denominational, without guilt or rebuke. All in God’s creation. I go “there” also and love it.
I like Ron’s “Church of the Blue Sky”, the only problem I have with it is when God is brought into it. I just think of it as “Nature” that way there is no definition of who is behind it.
Strange how we all like peace and quiet.
I go back to 1964 and making my way from Peckham via Camberwell hopefully by bus to The Strand, but sometimes having to walk. Then walking from the Strand in London to Liverpool Street Station at 2.00 am was wonderful be it raining or dry and cold, the peace and tranquillity it was wonderful. Would I do that walk now, A BIG NO!
Then hop on the Milk Train, as it was known, to Ipswich at 4.00 am. Then on to Felixstowe on the little commuter train, looking out at the track just sat behind the driver. Arrive in Felixstowe and on to the antiquated Albert Aldiss bus down to Felixstowe Ferry, then on Charlie Brinkley’s boat across the River Deben to arrive at Royal Air Force Bawdsey.
That tranquillity I think has long gone but the Suffolk sky is still there as a reminder of days past. Now for more work re-organising my workshop.
I, too, love the quiet. I’m blessed to live in the Pacific Northwest away from the city. No traffic noise, no man made noises of any kind most of the time. Early morning is my favorite time of day. I often go out on my deck and simply close my eyes to listen. It’s amazing all the wild life to be witnessed by simply listening. And then open my eyes to take in the breathtaking view of the morning sun lighting up the Olympic Mountains. It’s food for the soul.
The gifts that have been given to us are countless. We just need to be aware of them.
Paul, how warm did your workshop get in Texas during the summer heat? Did you put any climate control in the shop?
I lived in Nome Alaska ( population 3500, no roads in or out) for twenty three years. My life consisted of a mix of working for a living and subsistence. Up there, if you want to , you can gather food from the land. I had an 8-5 job, but after hours were all about subsistence. For 10 years I lived in a small cabin about 5 miles outside of town. No running water or electricity, just a wind generator and wood stove.
We used to pack the kids up every Friday after work and drive the 70 miles to Teller (population 250) hop in the skiff and boat upriver 35 miles to our tiny cabin. On a very crowded weekend there might be 4 or five families spread over about a 100 square mile area. I remember a time that we boated about 3 miles up a creek that was only passable in times of heavy rain and we went to a place where no one hardly ever goes. We walked up a little hill and looked out over one of the most pristeen untouched places on earth and just looked and listened. I have never had such a peaceful happy contented time in my life. I know that I have been blessed with the most beautiful life any man could ask for, and I only wish all of you could have experienced that peace…
I have created my own wildlife garden over the past decade. It is lovely to hear birds singing, see tadpoles swimming frenetically. To hear the bees as they fly about pollinating everything.
I combine walks in the woods with woodworking by keeping an eye out for downed trees that I can saw and split and then use my cart to bring back to my apartment. I just finished a table made out of ash. What a load of work that was. I can’t wait to get started on the pine, it will be a breeze compared to the ash which I found to be tough and stringy. The red oak, I don’t know, it’s so much fun to discover new things. Hand tools really make one pay attention to how wood wants to behave, so much different than pulling a trigger and imposing one’s uncontested will. Will the birch and cherry cooperate? I’ll find out.
I am not sure where to post this question.
I purchased a mallet from England as time is very precious . I am not sure of the species.
Should I put a finish on it such as tung oil
Danish oil? It is machine made and reasonably inexpensive. In the future when time allows I will make my own. Your suggestions will be appreciated.
Jerry
The traditional finish is boiled linseed oil. It’s as good as any and after applying two or three coats picks up its own patina from your sweat and dirt.
Thanks Paul, I live in Texas and it is pretty certain time of the year.
How did you end up in Texas, Paul?
What’s the Texas saying? “I may not have been born in Texas but I got here as fast as I could!” Texas opened its arms to means was my second home. Just good, honest people. I actually sent 33 applications to Canadian furniture makers and just one to the USA. The 33 Canadian would-be employers either said no or said Canada was too depressed to take me on. The one Texas outfit did pursue it and so I ended up in the Lone Star State and never regretted that day of small beginnings.
I lived there in my military days. Real salt of the earth people. The people in West Texas were down home and welcoming. Fond memories. And the tornadoes and the flooding creeks and streets
My car almost got swept away by the flooding…very funny now!
I truly appreciate the beauty in seeing the buffalo near my house. The Red Winged Blackbirds perched on cattails near my favorite pond. Such are my mornings in North Texas. As lovely as other places are there is no place like your own home.
Be safe out there.
I lived near Johnson City and saw such sights myself. I even had a male charge at me one time. I moved very quickly to the tree next to me.
I forgot the jackrabbits so belligerent they tried to bite my sneaker. They were big bullies!