There is a chill in the air. We’ve had it good, but, like Bob Dylan says, the times they are a changing. We had more chard and kale tonight, but this could be it. It was good to get out on the weekend and wander the creeks. It was also good to cut a few blocks of firewood. We have plenty but I can’t pass it up. Firewood warms a person three times, while cutting, splitting and burning. While coming out of the bush the other night I saw two young couples. They had winched a huge piece of fallen dead fir onto the road. The guys were cutting it into lengths. The girls were sitting on the tailgate of the truck and the truck was loaded with the massive blocks. It made me feel good to see them. It reminded me of Lisa and I when we were younger, tackling all manner and diameter of firewood. The stuff they were cutting was big and must have taken all four of them to load it into the truck. They had the look of kids who have grown up in this neck of the woods. They were happy. Maybe as happy as they will ever be. I thought about stopping and asking to take their picture with their loaded down truck, but it didn’t seem right to intrude on their enjoyment. It sure would have made a good shot though.