Whittler's Bird

Day 63: As do most people who spend any amount of time alone in an isolated environment, as a backpacker who would often go off for two weeks at a time into trailless wilderness, I needed and wanted something to keep my hands and mind busy while I sat around camp after the day's adventures. You can only play so many games of solitaire before it loses its appeal, and no matter how many hours I practiced, my talent at the harmonica never seemed to improve. Thus it was that I started carrying around a small chunk of basswood to keep my Swiss Army knife company.

As I've mentioned before, the ornaments on my Christmas tree are largely carved wooden birds salvaged from the ends of commercially produced swizzle sticks. I wanted to make a few of my own to add to the flock. My first attempts were blocky and a far cry from artistic, but as my hands grew accustomed to the way the knife followed the grain of the wood, I learned to "go with the flow" rather than trying to fight it. Eventually, I was able to turn out a passin' decent bird for the tree.

Carving, however, was not done at home except rarely when I was close to finishing up a piece. It was always saved for "camp days," and more often than not, a single bird took two backpacking seasons to complete. This little fellow was one of the last I carved while sitting beside a stream I can no longer reach. He is a bird of memories, his spirit that of alpine wildflowers and the scent of whitebark pine.