Day 7 – Squirrels in their element
One of the logistical intricacies is keeping my milk cool in the tipi. When I have time I will construct a safe way of keeping it in the stream but until then I have a cool bag and cool bricks which I rotate daily. I take them up to uni and put them in the freezer to charge them up. The freezer compartment I keep them in, in the lab, is the same one where Keith keeps frozen dead squirrels.
I walk home late again, but this time it’s dry and I take the time to enjoy it. I catch myself laughing at the gusty breeze which I know is drying out the ground, wishing I could thank it somehow, and I realise where all those Indian dances come from.
I spin off onto an appreciation for the elements. Too much of fire, air (wind) and water is lethal, as is drought of either. I think about where they all fit in, and realise I’m harnessing just enough of each, almost an exact balance to keep things going, and it’s that balancing act which takes the most work.
They have a brilliant way of teaching me respect too, to resist thier power. The first rain wasn’t as large as the second, but it prepared me for the big one: it showed me what it could do if it really wanted to, and where the water could end everything. Even the embers exploding occasionally out of a small fire warn me not to put too many logs on. When I look properly I see signs everywhere, and learning where to find these signs is constantly fascinating. I must sound like a complete hippy to the average citizen, but then the average citizen has central heating.
I forget to look at the sky before I fall asleep. Had I looked I would have noticed that it was cloudless, and probably prepared an extra blanket and a hat. As it is, I wake up at 5.30 freezing my bollocks off.