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Working in forestry means accepting that some trees do break under the weight of snow. Not all of them reach maturity as planned.
My anger and frustration were just a way to distract myself from my utter uselessness.
Yoki continued on up the slope, swinging his ax like a demon, chopping down young trees as he went. I was dumbfounded. Forest work meant becoming one with nature, I’d always vaguely figured, and here Yoki was hell-bent on destroying it.
As you can tell from the way I let myself be forced into coming here in the first place, I don’t have much spirit of resistance. Maybe it’s just too much trouble, or maybe I’m adaptable. You can’t really call it right or wrong, I think.
Sometimes I ate so much watermelon or corn, I’d get a stomachache. I bet everybody got stomachaches in the summer. But the fresh vegetables and watermelon tasted so good, no one minded.
