The more time I work in the dirt, the deeper I want to go. I’ve found myself wanting to be in the dirt, a component of the dirt. The garden was left to rest last year with two rounds of buckwheat; even so I had no shortage of projects that required my hands in the dirt. The land was prepped for the perennial garden and planting has started.
This past year I was pulled toward working with wood. I learned a little woodcarving, riving, shaving and turning. Really enjoyed searching local flea markets & auctions for the traditional hand tools. I also read about dry stone wall building and would like to work my own stone for a short wall, or just for the sake of learning a new skill.
I have much admiration for those that create/build with their hands. The level of attention and focus, not to mention the years of practice creating even the simplest pieces, possess more than a curve or a bend, but also the spirit of the crafter.
We somewhat have become distracted from such activities with our busy lives. I believe it will be revived in coming generations. My daughter is mastering the art of knitting, cooking, herbalism and is teaching friends of all ages.
Unlike the day jobs of today, when learning the traditional skills or working the bread labor, there always seems to be time to pause and listen beyond the shave of the wood, crack of the stone, or drag of the rack. I still remember the satisfaction of preparing the land for the perennial garden; I work myself to such an exhausted state, then fall to the ground, listen to my own breath, listen to the sounds around me, and simply be. It is all a tradeoff, live now or “someday”?