Of Wood, Stones and Cold

Wholesome good stories still live
Cold
While the earth remains, ​​Seedtime and harvest, ​​And cold and heat, ​​And summer and winter, ​​And day and night ​​Shall not cease. Genesis 8:22
What splendid poetry straight from God’s heart! What a grand promise of the enduring cycle of the…

Cold

While the earth remains, ​
​Seedtime and harvest, ​
​And cold and heat, ​
​And summer and winter, ​
​And day and night ​
​Shall not cease. Genesis 8:22

What splendid poetry straight from God’s heart! What a grand promise of the enduring cycle of the seasons.

Wood

Right now is the time to collect firewood before winter’s cold. Last month I spotted a standing dead Douglas Fir tree on private property, and got permission to harvest it. “You can have it if you take all of it,” the landowner said.

The tree was over a hundred feet tall (note my teenage grandson standing beside it) and 48” at the base, too big for an amateur to fall, so I outsourced that.

Once it was on the ground, I started clearing the branches and sticks. Finished that a few days ago and now I have about a week to harvest the log. The property is steep and once the autumn rains begin, getting a loaded trailer up that hill could prove tricky.

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Cat On a Pole

We’d been in Williams Lake, British Columbia less than a month when we had an unlikely encounter with a cat, an experience which pictures the contrast between God’s glory and human glory. This post wraps up a three-part series which began with What Do You Say to a Weeping Stranger.

Home was a 12×50 foot trailer we had hauled 2300 miles from Nebraska. We installed it at the Kendall Acres mobile home park high above the town. Our assignment—Alkali Lake Reserve—lay forty miles south on the Dog Creek Road. Two or three times a week we spent an hour each way bumping over gravel roads that exacted revenge on our 1972 Olds Cutlass for the pounding of log trucks.

One November day we were maybe a mile from home, weaving the curvy road between homesteads and small farms cut out of the woods, when we rounded another bend and spotted a cat perched at the top of a utility pole. When we returned a couple of hours later the feline was still there. And still there two or three days later when we set out for Alkali again.

Williams Lake is 200 miles north of the border. November in Williams Lake is like January in Wichita–near freezing. Something had to be done.

The firefighter who answered my call to the fire station rebuffed my request. The cat would come down when it was ready. But we weren’t convinced, decided to attempt a rescue with our own resources.

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