firewood

I drove with my brother into the mountains in search of firewood. At 400 meters elevation we encountered snow. At the end of a logging road that meandered up the mountain and into a clear cut, we stopped next to a pile of logs. When we began cutting firewood, the snow stopped. Rain followed. Then sunshine arrived. We cut and split firewood for three hours. The pickup truck was full. And we were tired.

Near Waterloo Mountain, Vancouver Island