Burning wood. And all that means. Which at times, in ways can mean most anything but then what can’t? Burning wood for heat before it rots away. There’s no seeming end to it. I turn a corner and stumble upon a pile of logs I’d forgotten I’d piled up. Even when I choose to fool myself into thinking I’m ahead of the ever sprouting trees there are old falling down wood things to clean up. The work’s different, most of the sawing and all of the “splitting” ‘s been done. A lot of old nails need to be removed. Mostly nails good enough to be re used. Fast hot fires that don’t burn long yet give off lots of heat while they do. Burning wood. It’s April. The wind’s cold.