Inevitability
It's hard to understand. A day spent outdoors all day is always a good day.
Couple days in the field this week, checking work that was not done as well as it should be (always depressing, and I feel somewhat responsible) with someone awesome from work. The first day we were on a slope over 100% (over 45 degrees) for a lot of the day in slide alder and devil's club with blown-down trees interspersed. My arms hurt as much as my legs at the end of the day because half the time I was just pulling myself up. After about 400m up and 300m over we approached the second sample point from hell. But. It wasn't hell.
Just like that the roil of dark chaos from the week turned off and I realised I was happy.
By the end of the second day I was whooping back at the showers of rain.
It lingers, even now, it stayed with me through the washboard resource roads home.
I went into landscaping because the worst day outside is always better than the best day inside for me. I went into forestry for the same reason. It's just true. I have trouble believing it because there is no cultural referent for it: wouldn't I rather have chocolate? Or a bath or warm bed? Or see a movie or play a boardgame? Or stay warm and dry? Or not get splinters and thorns in my hands? Or do less work? Or spend less time with things dying and turning into a mud-shit slurry or my googles freezing up or not slipping and falling on my butt or ANYTHING like a human.
Every day outside is better. I can enjoy those indoor things, of course, but only in the context of a life where most waking hours are outside.
It's just true.
Believe it, Greenie.
Couple days in the field this week, checking work that was not done as well as it should be (always depressing, and I feel somewhat responsible) with someone awesome from work. The first day we were on a slope over 100% (over 45 degrees) for a lot of the day in slide alder and devil's club with blown-down trees interspersed. My arms hurt as much as my legs at the end of the day because half the time I was just pulling myself up. After about 400m up and 300m over we approached the second sample point from hell. But. It wasn't hell.
Just like that the roil of dark chaos from the week turned off and I realised I was happy.
By the end of the second day I was whooping back at the showers of rain.
It lingers, even now, it stayed with me through the washboard resource roads home.
I went into landscaping because the worst day outside is always better than the best day inside for me. I went into forestry for the same reason. It's just true. I have trouble believing it because there is no cultural referent for it: wouldn't I rather have chocolate? Or a bath or warm bed? Or see a movie or play a boardgame? Or stay warm and dry? Or not get splinters and thorns in my hands? Or do less work? Or spend less time with things dying and turning into a mud-shit slurry or my googles freezing up or not slipping and falling on my butt or ANYTHING like a human.
Every day outside is better. I can enjoy those indoor things, of course, but only in the context of a life where most waking hours are outside.
It's just true.
Believe it, Greenie.