What happens when you’ve lived in a wood house for over 25 years AND you’re next to a CRD park full of trees? More specifically the question is what doesn’t happen?!
My lovely little “Sori-bashi” – bridge with an arched appearance – was literally falling about after 20 years. Made of yellow cedar, it was riddled with bugs; even two of the treated rail-road ties had been eaten to bits.
Wood is my world; the world that gives me an opportunity to exist; to raise a family; make my mark in life. The cycle of dependence is large and varied. It’s a world of relative grace and comfort thanks to that wood in those trees. Yet the term ‘wood’ is rather loosely used, and I often wonder what defines ‘wood’ in other people’s worlds.
How do we find wood useful? Could a rough board or an old stump qualify? Some suggest it would best be served in its original ‘tree’ state. Loved but untouched.
(left) Culturally modified & will live to see another day. (right) Culturally modified in a very utilitarian, one-time fashion.
In a woodworker’s world is there an expectation that ‘wood’ needs to be re-manned; touched by human and/or machine ‘hands’ to be valued? Its form altered; enhanced? Or is wood……..trees…….best left alone; yet even mammals and birds; insects and amphibians do not leave trees unmarked. What is natural?
#2 – Formerly the winter home to rats. Re-foamed and lined with chicken wire. Fingers crossed. We’d tried stainless steel cuttings from a metal lathe and copper pot scrubbers all around the base with no success.