It is the main artist set-up day for the weekend's Lo-Fi Arts Festival. A few dozen artists will be here installing artwork and installations throughout the 300+ acres of Smoke Farm. I have just a few minor things to do having installed my work earlier in the week. I walk out to the Grave of Vitus Bering and build a bench of split cedar fence posts that I have found lying in the forest. I set up my desk for my Guide Service to Wilder Smoke Farm. Then I have little to do. I can't deny that seeing all the people here is a bit uncomfortable for me. Watching them, I know that they have a different relationship to this land than I do. It's not that one is better than the other, it is just different.
So, I have time to do something I have not done in too long. I have time to explore the forest one more time. This is what my Smoke Farm year has been. Wandering with purpose. Thinking about what I have found. I pack my gear and head up the creek. When I turn more north I plow through the densest of brush for 50 yards. I have forgotten how tough this spot is and wonder about my plans to guide people through here. But, the forest opens up soon enough. I find the big logging pulley and soon enough I find the broken bottle that lies under a fern. I've been here before and it amuses me that I can re-find such insignificant objects in the darkness of a rugged cedar forest. I hit the diagonal road not too far uphill from the squatter's cabin, which I continue on to. There is always a distant creative feel to the cabin and whether that feeling comes out of me, or goes into me from the site, it makes no difference. It is just so.
Tomorrow, I might lead someone here. They will earn the visit. They will remember the better parts of the work.