The hills are alive with wildflowers and lush, green growth. And recently they harbored. . .
. . .tasks that needed done and a man who was willing to do them! A few seasons ago, a very large tree fell on one of the mountain wood sheds, crushing it to smithereens. (The wood shed was behind this homestead cabin). Last summer Brent, Rylan, and Grandpa worked hard to disentangle the shed from the trunk and branches. They sawed up the tree, hauled it to a more remote place on the property (it was too dead to use for firewood), and hauled the wood shed, piece by piece, into a large pile in a space in front of the homestead cabin so it could dry out. The homestead cabin is very old and empty on a corner of the land, but it is a place I love. It's quaint craftsman style and faded red paint invite the heart. It could only benefit from the removal of debris.
So armed with tools, Brent set to work to burn the old shed. A season had given it time enough to dry out. It was ready to burn. Since I love old things, I had a hard time watching the old "barn wood" going into the burn pile, but it was too extensive a task to remove old nails, hinges, and fasteners and to take it apart piece by piece to haul back home for crafty projects. The wood was beautifully aged.
The pick-up tailgate provided a ring-side seat of all the action.
And the fire burned. . .
Next, the man has plans to mow the meadow surrounding homestead cabin. It still remains, but without a wood shed behind it. It's time that it looked a bit more loved and cared for. Sometimes it is hard to know if it should be left looking as though abandoned, or if it should look much loved. Ruffian's tend to like to break into it, sometimes building a fire on the concrete floor or simply curious as to what is inside. After fixing and re-fixing the broken front door after break-ins, Brent has solved the problem by nailing the door shut and then covering a window (which someone broke out) with a hinged wooden covering. If anyone wants inside, all they have to do is open the shutter and look right in. The window is large enough, they can crawl in if they want to! This solution has seemed to solve the problem. It seems no one has entered since it has been made accessible to all.
A little red barn beside the cabin is quiet and quaint. Worn wooden stalls and a creaky ladder to the loft above reveal years of use. I'm sure interesting stories could be told from years gone by. It sits quiet now, although several summers past a twelve-year-old girl got lost in the mountains overnight and used it's shelter overnight for protection and security. We could see the outline of twigs and grasses that she used to create a nature-crafted bed on the dirt floor. When she was found, her mother left a note of thankfulness for the shelter (and drum of water we'd left nearby). I'm so happy it was there for her. I carefully saved the outline of her little fabricated bed as a reminder for the remainder of the summer.
A hard days work (and observation by me and my good book) warranted a seat on the observation log on the point where we enjoyed some good cups of tea. The man is making plans for his next trip to the mountain. Work, work, work is his motto. It brings him much joy.