This week passed slowly, and yet it is gone. Towards the end of the week, I struggled greatly with my attitude…A grump set in, which I could not shake. I was unamused by most things in life, particularly unamused by myself. A deep exhaustion had set into my bones. On Thursday, my morning was packed with non-stop zoom meetings…By my third meeting before noon, I felt a humming irritation that vibrated my bones and made my teeth chatter. The worst part about being in that state during a zoom meeting, is you can see yourself…which results in greater irritation, towards oneself, for being such a grump.

Thankfully, the day eventually turned. Though, not before I was nearly hit by a speeding car on Washington Street as I was on my way to the salvage yard in the golf course. Biking carelessly, I shot out of the tiny opening in the wall by the college club, straight into the heart of Washington Street at peak busyness, without looking either way to check for cars. The man who almost hit me, slowed, rolled down his window, and asked what are you doing?, in a perplexed tone that intensified my irritation. I simply stared at him, eyebrows knit in unwarranted annoyance, and biked around the back of his car. I proceeded to bike down the service road to the salvage yard, stomach knotted in belligerence directed at life in general. His question stayed with me, what are you doing?…good question, sir, I regularly ask myself the same thing.

Once I reached the salvage yard, my eyes met the beautiful wood pile, and an ease permeated my prickly skin. A man pulled up in a golf-cart, and introduced himself as Grant, the Arborist. We had a meeting to discuss tree stumps. Grant’s joyful energy and readiness, lifted the haze of my grump, and I finally felt I could breathe…even smile. I chose a few pieces of salvaged White Oak. Grant said it had been taken down the day before from the Chapel. He started the chainsaw, and proceeded to cut magnificent stumps from the White Oak. The chainsaw sliced through the wood like a knife through butter, and a heavenly aroma filled my nose. Grant cheerfully brought the stumps to the Pine Knoll. Once the job was done, I arranged the stumps in a circle, and took a seat on one of the large ones, facing the setting sun. The stump was still moist, the smell of White Oak embraced me, and I was full of great gratitude for my new friend, Grant, who’s kindness made my day.