The Smell of Freshly Split Wood - Feb 9 2022

 

The Smell of Freshly Split Wood

Feb 9 2022

The axe connects

with a firm dull thud,

chromium steel

on dense northern birch.

It cuts straight and sure,

the weight of the head

and the keenly honed edge

feeling almost effortless.

Two pieces tumble

to the dry concrete surface.

There is a smell to freshly split wood.

A kind of spicy herbaceous scent,

a pleasing earthiness.

And the solid thunk

of well-seasoned wood

as it hits the floor,

dry, dense

ready to burn.

Compactly stacked

the lengths wedge tightly together

in a tidy wall of wood,

plenty of fuel

to last through the end

of the cold dark season.

The match flares

the stove ignites.

The smell of a fire

is even better than freshly split wood,

infusing everything

with its sharp sweet scent.

So I carry it

on my clothes, my skin, my hair

until I reek of smoke.

Except when everything smells

nothing does.

It's the middle of winter,

and time to hibernate.

So we hunker down

around the roaring stove,

faces flushed

in its soft flickering glow.

The sleepy heat goes bone deep,

drawing us in

closer and closer.