Hunting for Cedars

I have just returned to Bangkok after a wonderful 3 months in the states, visiting with family and friends. I seem to have adjusted to the time difference pretty quickly, John is not having as much luck with that. It can be a problem. My secret is sleeping pills for the first week, does wonders.

This blog is a bit different from my usual blogging. My brother, Hubs & good friend, Reed, have been encouraging me to write some poetry, so here is an attempt. It is about a day that I spent with my father & have recalled it fondly & just wanted to get my feelings about it down. The photo is from Dad's 88th birthday party & I gave him a fly swatter crown, flies & squirrels are his his constant enemies.
Enjoy:

HUNTING FOR CEDAR WITH THE WISEMAN
Summer 2009

The Wiseman, my father, creates furniture from cedar trees.
It is a family tradition, passed down from his grandfather.
For some reason, in the past, it’s only the boys who get the “training”.
Is it because they are the ones who show the interest or just how it’s always been?
I feel sad I was not more interested in the past, I decide to make an effort.
I go to the workshop hopefully to learn, but at the least to spend time with the Wiseman.

I watch his aged hands pull the drawshave along the raw wood that will become a leg for his table.
I observe as he measures, sands, fits the pieces together.
I note the joy and sometimes frustration on his face as he works the wood.
I regret not having observed these things before & not having learned this from him.
I am selfish when I ask that the next table be for ME,
I crave some legacy of his craft, his knowledge, his loving touch of the wood & his creation.

I am thrilled when he asks me to be his assistant in a hunt for new cedar.
“It is the season”, he says, “this is when the bark will peel easily.”
We choose our weapons – a bow saw, loppers & his trusted cane.
I follow him, feeling like a young child filled with trust & admiration.
I have images of a young Native American child following the wise elder into the woods to learn the craft of creating something from nature’s bounty.
He studies each tree with a trained eye.
He points with his cane, “this one is too thick, this one too narrow, that one too crooked.”
His cane follows the trunk up along with our eyes “this one is just right, cut it!”

I, the apprentice, cut the tree.
It is not easy work, but I know this will one day be a table, I visualize it.
We cut more trees until he decides it’s enough.
We drag them from the woods.
Together we peel the thick bark from the slick wood.
He is right, they are easy to peel.
We enjoy this easy task after our hard work of cutting & dragging.
We carry the wood to its drying place.
We smile at each other, a good days work!

I wonder at this Wiseman, who at times seems so frail and fragile,
But who managed the woods with energy & enthusiasm.
I wonder, will he make another table, will I get my legacy?
Then I realize, I don’t really care,
I’m satisfied to have just spent the time with him,
Sharing his wisdom, enjoying his presence, feeling his love.