In his nature classic A Sand County Almanac, Aldo Leopold wrote that wood heats us twice, once when we cut it and once when we burn it. Lately, wood has been heating my son Janis more than twice. Assigned the task of bucking up wood to dry before winter returns, he chainsawed firewood into stovebox lengths, tossed it to the stacking site, stacked it neatly in the first of what will be six rows of a cord each, and then split logs to fill the woodboxes on our porch – fuel to ward off the chill of this shoulder season, when mornings, evenings, and damp, blustery days still require the use of our woodstove. During the winter, the woodstove burns all day, every day and provides not only heat for comfort, but also for cooking, for raising bread dough, and for drying outdoor clothing made damp by snow. When storms rob us of the electricity needed to operate our backup furnace and electric range, we rely on our woodstove to see us through. Today’s post is a photographic homage to the woodpile, that photosynthetically-created carbon storehouse standing between us and the frigid air of winter.

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