Spending solstice among the trees

After a walk at Acewood, I was off to Token Creek Park to once again help out with a bit of oak prairie restoration.

Last month the project attracted only 3 of us but this time around there were 12-15 hardy souls. As she did last time, our organizer began the proceedings by reading a poem by Mary Oliver. When she had finished, we grabbed our gear and headed down the trail.

At the work area, we split into two groups with one cutting down the dreaded buckthorn and applying herbicide to the stumps while the other cut the trees into burnable pieces and did the same for piles of felled trees from previous ventures.

As with Acewood earlier that morning, Highway 51 provided some white noise in the background but otherwise the park was peaceful. It was an absolutely lovely day with the sun bathing us in its light and warming the day up into the 20s. 

When the burn pile was ready, the purifying flames were lit. We had a big fire that kept those of us working near it quite warm.

I had first met the organizer on the bus last year and was introduced to her boyfriend last month but the rest of the crew were new to me. Very friendly folks and they all seemed to enjoy themselves out in the woods for a couple hours. 

My physical therapy/strength training is paying off as I broke one of the saws. Oops. Sorry Dane County.

Towards the end of the day our organizer read another poem by Mary Oliver. I believe it was "When I Am Among The Trees".

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.

Six of us stayed to end and chatted amongst the long shadows before dousing the coals once they had burned down most of the way.

 

 

What a fantastic way to spend the solstice! My (gloved) hands touching trees, digging in the snow; the sun on my face, the intense heat of the flames. The air was brisk but the sun illuminated our work area and brightened our moods. I found the company to be wonderful as folks were in good cheer and happy to chat with the old duffer.

 

Our organizer is off to a farm outside of Mazomanie ere long where she will spend six months clearing more buckthorn and other invasive species in exchange for room and board. She is such a kind soul with a great love for nature. Her passion for trees is infectious and her enthusiasm for insects is unique amongst the non-entomologists in my experience. Her encounters with the sublime are to be envied. I shall miss her at these outings and now I have to go through some rigamarole in order to find another group doing this same work.

 

If only every solstice were spent in the woods like this one, with good company and full of mirth.