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Christmas

June 14, Christmas day, the end of an exhausting week of work. Stepping out of the rig, we were greeted by a small pine tree tied to a fence and two stakes and covered in pink flagging - our Christmas tree. Despite the long day of hiking up intense slopes and moving trees, the excitement of the holiday season far outweighed our soreness and tiredness. After finishing our afternoon tasks, we collected our gifts and sat in a circle in the cabin provided for us for the week. We had each gotten a name two days earlier and had used that time to carefully craft beautiful gifts for that person. A bouquet of flowers, a necklace, a piece of wood with a picture of the cabin drawn on it, a poem with flowers, a bone with a National Forest sign, a pocket knife in a wooden box, and a piece of wood with flowers and a picture attached - all gifts we would no doubt cherish forever. 

A poem from Erica, given to Dorothy as a gift:

A rock is pressure plus time and many things in between

It has no control of the shape it will take

It flows with the rivers

It crashes the shores 

Never questioning or wanting more

The beauty lies in its freedom

And the ability to let itself go

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