Saturday was a beautiful day. Clear and sunny with a high in the 70s. After a morning client meeting I walked through the Aquatic Gardens, taking in the sun and the air, then found myself at home. I had to stay outside. I started thinking about what I could do out in the yard.  Trimming the weed trees and pulling out the rest of the old chain-link fence held little appeal.  Instead, I grabbed my bags of chopstick blanks, some spokeshaves and planes, and headed out to my new bench.

I whittled the Holly twigs first. Then the Peach. I poured a cup of coffee and returned to find a Carolina Wren poking around the woodpile. It kept coming back until dusk; serenading and calling from fence to tree to bush.  The Apple branches came out next. I would whip off most of the bark while tapering them, leaving an inch or two at the top. By the time I was into the Sycamore chopsticks, the sun had cozied up to the trees. It had been an uncommonly relaxing afternoon and I wanted to keep going. But the light was nearly gone, and the wren had been replaced by a bat.  The bright side of stopping was that, since I was out by the woodpile, there was no need to sweep up.

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