The Year that See Grew Up

May 25, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, discipline, plants, School, shelter building, snow, Soul, water purification, bow drill, blacksmithing, animal processing

Nevertheless, sometimes a young person, through choice or fate, experiences a catalyst that forces them to mature in a short period of time. I think of water when I consider this idea. In a river, water flows over rocks, through the eons grinding them down into smooth, polished, perfect stone. Water also trickles down inside the tiny cracks of a cliff face, and when it freezes as the temperature drops, sometimes the cliff explodes of a sudden into huge chunks that go flying off into space without warning, leaving behind a new rock face to glitter in the harsh light of day for the first time. At the end of this year, I am the rock face--raw, exposed, vulnerable, young--but supported by the rest of the cliff that still stands buried under the surface.

The last snowfall of the season at Camp Trackers. Taken March 22nd by Cameron MacPhail.

Fear

February 11, 2018 by Laura Reichardt in challenge, animal processing, fire, Soul, arrows

Sometimes we bring a lot of our outside lives into the woods. Sometimes, we get lucky enough to work through those challenges there. And sometimes, we're even smart enough to leave that stuff out in the woods, buried under a tree, so that all the things we carry* can absorb back into the great, green, glowing sphere of life instead of pushing us down into grief and misery.

Photo taken a very long time ago, somewhere in the Beartooths, probably by Rebecca Williams.

The Moment of My Death

November 01, 2017 by Laura Reichardt in animal processing

Today, we killed two turkeys. Were that all, it wouldn't be worth an out-of-sequence blog post. Today was not my first experience with the death of another entity at my hand, or at the hand of another close by me.

Photo taken by Laura.

Beginning to End

October 20, 2017 by Laura Reichardt in animal processing

Wednesday we walk into class to find the carcasses of four sheep laying on the ground near the pasture. These are sheep I've met while they lived--we have walked them from their corral to the pasture and back. We have names for some of them. They had personalities. The moment of death has passed, but that is the only part of the process we miss.

Photos taken by Cameron MacPhail.