Today is a big day. Today is OFFICIALLY the best day I've ever spent engaged in a vocational activity. I know I need to tread lightly here because I have had some great opportunities and experiences in the past. But today... Amazing. 

Ma, I'm thinking I may have found out that "work" can and is in fact fun 

Today I had my first (and hopefully not last) Chainsaw meeting. It is exactly what it sounds like. I went for a stroll, with a merry band of CCHRC's finest, 400-ft down our front driveway to a small spoke road where, in a mere eight months, four University of Alaska Fairbanks student homes will be located, nestled amongst the trees. 

The site is beautiful and largely untouched. I should mention here that each particle of snow, on every surface here, is delicately stacked as if it were a game of Jenga; even the narrowest of twigs can carry a stack of powdery snow an inch high. Just as the ice storms of the midwest create beautiful frozen crystal palaces, the sifted confectioner sugar snow here is amazing in its own right. The tree coverage on the site ranges from medium-well to medium-rare depending on the area. But nonetheless everything is coated with a fine white sheen. The sinking noon sun of a November sun throws soft shadows through the trunks and is further lightened by diffusion of the snow on the ground.

The ground is a mix of seasonal marsh and permafrost. The trees that hazard to stake a claim here do so with a mixed success rate; the number of toppled and decaying trees challenging the number still standing to face the harsh climate swings. The vast majority of the ground cover here is scraggly but hardy, enthusiastically spreading across the site. And then theres the forest floor. Serta doesn't have shit on this luxury plushness... Every step is a dream, the mosses, leaves and pine needles delightfully supporting and softening the load on your knees. Bag it and I'll sleep on it. 

After some reflective wandering through the site, snow slowly drifting to the ground, the sound of chainsaws splits the air. within moments there's a flurry of activity around the woods and road as trees are felled and pulled to a growing pile running the length of the site. The sunlight comes and goes in flickers, casting light into areas of the woods untouched in years.

By Midday we reach a pause for pizza, planning and warm up back inside, and with the next hour are back feeding trees into the chipper. And at days end the woods are silent again as the cutting teams return to their respective garages and desks. The ground of the house plots now seeing the clear sky above them, unblocked by needles, work boots,  scraggly pine, or felled trees.

As the sun settled back into the horizon after its low arc, I walked away from the site, eager to begin planning the next steps in the lands transformation.