Working this wood, I cannot help but pause and smell it’s sweet essence and reflect upon it’s life. My grandpa planted this tree more than 30 years ago. My dad has spent the better part of his life continuing to nurture this tree. Both of these men have, and still teach me so much about life. How to work hard. How to do a job right, even if the right way takes longer and is less traveled. Most importantly they taught me how to care for the land. An agrarian lifestyle, in which I was lucky to spend my formative years, shaped my worldview putting the land at the forefront. For those who have not lived this way it is hard to explain how important a place is, to many a place is just a place. When one puts their blood sweat and tears into a place it becomes a part of you. Your sweat is in the very ground and you become deeply rooted just as the trees. I hold fondly to the memories of time spent in this orchard with my family. Games as children under the cool shelter of these cherry trees. Taking over the chore of fixing water lines after my grandfather had a stroke I remember the feeling of responsibility and pride that this job was mine. I even proposed to my wife under one of these trees. These trees have seen me grow up and they have been with my family through joys and hardships, through sweat and tears.
So when the time came to remove a few of them, I wanted to give them new life, to bring a part of them and a piece of this land, this place in which I called home, with me as a hunting partner. Just as my grandpa once was and my father and brothers still are. Sanding the final details into this bow I can hear the soul of this tree coming to new life. In the smooth and silent draw of it’s limbs and the quiet thump of the release. This tree shares its power, its wisdom once more with me. Just as it did throughout my young life. Learning to work hard, be diligent, take the path less traveled and respect the land.