Twenty-Four

Day 24.

Today’s chore: haul wood and feed the deer. I looked the opposite of cute in denim snow pants, a puffy jacket, and a green knit cap hanging off of my head. The snow was packed hard with a deceiving layer of fluffy stuff on top. The wood pile and alfalfa are kept in the same shed; the deer’s feeding area in the forest near the back porch where the logs for the woodstove are stacked. I started with the large bail of alfalfa, carrying it by the string tied tightly around it. It took me a fair amount of strength to take the bail from the driveway to the backyard (a lot longer than it probably takes my dad). Once I got the alfalfa across the deep, crunchy snow I cut the strings and broke it apart, tossing it down the path the deer gathered at.

Next came the wood hauling. Had there not been so much snow, this too would have been a quicker task. I collected the wood from the shed, taking the pieces from the giant Jinga puzzle my father had created while stocking up for winter. After carefully selecting the pieces I placed them into the teal, carrying canvas. Bracing the bunch against my hip I made my way through the yard, being careful not to trip in the holes from yesterday’s boot prints. It took several loads to fill the iron, u-shaped holder that the logs sat in to await the woodstove. It was almost dark as I finished my chores.

The fresh, crisp air, the quiet space, the deer peering at me silently from behind the snow laden trees was a far cry from the place my mind was at. As I took on the task of my chores I was thinking about Chicago – the sounds of traffic and the “el”, the diversity of people, and the buildings that went on and on into the sky. I thought about my life there, as it had looked the last two times, and how opposite it is from where I was raised.

In a couple of days I will get to visit my future home, my favorite place. I cannot wait to be around the energy, the endless rows of buildings that sit so near to beautiful Lake Michigan, the loud hum of the subway, and the vast opportunities around every corner. But part of me today felt torn as I stacked the logs that would later be used to heat the house. I questioned whether the serene and organic land I grew up on, with its local bakery and local florist and local brewery, is appealing because I know I will be safe or whether Chicago, with its walkability and opportunities, is my recurring destination of choice because it has become my safety.

After my chores were completed I packed my small bag for Illinois. I knew I wasn’t ready to start hauling wood on a daily basis, I knew the city was calling my name. While I packed I felt a little nervous excitement, and it was then that I knew I was headed in the right direction.

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