BRATTLEBORO — I live in southern Vermont now. In late fall, as I took a walk in my neighborhood, I noticed something unusual which I had never seen before - our neighbors' beautiful stacks of wood.
These wood piles were of varying sizes of width, perfectly even in length, exposing only the round face of the wood and its grain. I admired how beautiful the stacks were - perfectly formed ends with secure wooden rails.
In wintertime, against snow, the piles reflected shades of wood grain and sizes of wood, branches, and colors. I imagine an owner who would carry these logs inside and throw them onto a wood-burning stove and watch the crackling, hissing, and flames.
On a recent late-spring morning, the air was clean and refreshing. As I walked along, I saw our neighbor, Tom, rearranging his wood pile.
“Now that we're in May, we have to get ready for winter,” he said.
After the walk, motivated by our neighbor's comment, I looked around our garage and saw random piles of firewood. I was inspired to do something about it.
“Why don't we do some wood stacking like Tom did?” I suggested to my husband.
“Good idea,” Michael agreed.
* * *
I became excited at the thought of doing something about our wood pile.
Stacking wood is my husband's job, I once declared, but we were moving piles of wood from the garage to a nice sunny spot near the corner of our garden.
An hour went by. I prepared lunch inside. The garage was cleaner after the wood pile is almost gone.
Michael diligently stacked the wood. Once in a while, he stopped from wood stacking and wipes sweat on his forehead. It was a lot of work!
Strangely, the shape of the pile was not what I had in mind. It turned out triangular, and a great deal of unstacked wood was still strewn in the yard.
Then, as I touched a single log, the whole pile tumbled.
Both of us found ourselves disheartened, surprised, and disappointed. Stacking wood was much harder than what we thought. After all, we are city folks and have no real experience in this business.
Chopped wood is not evenly shaped. I tried stacking and restacking the wood piles. I did not do much better.
After many frustrating moments, we decided to redo the foundation to make it firmer. Using a 2 foot x 2 foot foundation, we managed to build the pile into a solid square shape using the remaining logs.
By late afternoon, we managed to complete the task. After finishing the wood pile and covering the top with sturdy vinyl, we called it a day. We wiped our sweaty faces and came inside to have a late lunch.
Later, we visited our neighbor and had cups of cappuccino while sharing our new experience.
“That is a very Vermonty thing to do!” Cecile exclaimed.
We were proud, even though we recognized our amateurish approach to wood stacking.
“You know, there are all sorts of things about how to stack a wood pile on the internet.” She impressed us by tipping us off on the information.
Later in the evening, I browsed beautiful pictures from around the world of woodpiles.
There were all different shapes: beehive, wood-cabin shaped, fallen-tree-shaped wood piles - the list goes on.
I had not realized that woodpiles have been transformed into an art.
* * *
A display of unsplit logs or split firewood outside gives me the comfort of being prepared for the coming wintertime. It also gives me the impression that the homeowner cares about the artistry in making wood piles.
It is strange: while I was thinking woodpiles in Vermont, I recalled the wooden rice chests that used to be used when I was growing up in Korea.
Growing up in that war-stricken country right after the Korean War, when everything was scarce, I remember it as the one thing that, even as a child, symbolized wealth.
This rice container was large enough to contain an entire year's worth of rice for the family of six to eight. People would admire it; visitors would notice it right away. Peculiarly, it would be kept not in the kitchen but in the living room to a bedroom at the door to the bedroom.
Anyone coming into a house through the main gate could not miss its presence. That is because Korean people proudly showed off their wealth as symbolized by a wooden rice chest, even though it was, in essence, only a container made of heavy wood. A household's wealth and status were often reflected in its beauty.
* * *
Although these images come from two seemingly unrelated scenes, I feel the respective richness, preparedness, and abundance of another great year of harvest festivities for unknown owners of the wood piles and rice containers.
Harvesting wood and rice both require fastidious hard work, and both are preparation for the season ahead. I admire that diligence and artistry. I respect the work ethic involved in the planning and doing the work. Vermonters and Koreans are very much alike in that regard.
When the snow falls softly in winter again, my husband will bring our nicely dried wood into the house to make a fire. As long as I have wood, rice, and assorted kimchi, I will be satisfied.
What a treat that will be this winter! Then I will enjoy my meals while warming myself by the sizzling, sputtering, and red-hot burning wood. A fresh white snow would be a welcome addition.
I love living in Vermont.