walk log late september

walk log

been taking walks in my rural neighborhood.  using the voice dictation feature on my phone to record little logs.  abbreviating names of roads and people for privacy.  (seems like this writing has a different style, an immediacy from being recorded as i walk, not recalled later)

9/18/2025

4:45pm parked on b. road. walked up side road to road below grassy, over to the clearcut. huge trees in the valley. 

light wind. vine maples turning. smoky views to the south, scott said it is from fires on the olympic peninsula. Smells smoky here and it is 71°.  no rain. walked 2 hrs. (picked up) 1 gallon ziplock of trash

9/19/25 Friday 

tried the road after county line but got creeped out by truck, so came back to county line road. 6pm. noticing steep slope with vine maples, sword ferns, moss and salal. possible solution for populating my bare bank. feels warm today 78. i have been sick, but somehow getting exercise makes me feel better. timber harvest markings are all over these woods. Considering the millions of clear cut acres east of here, it's devastating that these last stands of big trees are slated to be aggressively thinned. 

9/21 Sunday

it rained this morning, so the plants are wet. I walked from my house to the end of b. road and back taking about two hours. saw a water dog and some mushrooms peeking out, took some pictures of raindrops on the stem of a Queen Anne's lace. 

marvelled at the iridescent colors on thimbleberry leaves. 

the vine maples at the edges of clearcuts are turning red. some of the princess ferns are brown now as well. my shoes are wet. i'd really like to trim the brush on the trail that connects my place to b. road.

9/25/26

walking towards tom's place and over to b. road. 1230 start time. noticing tiny, five petal pink flowers blooming. warm and dry. 

walked to the top of the b. road second side road. was checking to see if there was any new trash because I saw a truck drive up here earlier.  1350 feet elevation there which means about 500 feet elevation gain, and i'm breaking a sweat

9/26 Friday 5 pm

what I didn't tell you yesterday is that earlier this week I picked up beer cans and there were three or four of the same style in different places, and I arranged them all together in a group, visible from the road. I think that was on Thursday and on Friday when I walked by they were gone. maybe I made a point to someone.  

ultimately, my plan is to walk through this with a scythe, and clear the brush so that when it's wet, I don't get soaked walking through here. but a lot of this is salal, and I don't know if my scythe will be able to cut the tough stems.

so I got to the clear cut at the end of b. road and there's a red truck, and a guy with binoculars scanning the clear cut (for deer, he says). his name is pat s. He lives on h. road. he talked to me for about a half hour all about his childhood near Klamath Falls, growing up on a dairy farm hunting, growing up poor, that they hunted to eat meat and never ate beef. he bemoans the shortage of deer in these parts says it's gone down a lot, but there used to be lots of deer and elk through here. he has some neighbors who hunt at night which is not legal because the deer need to be able to relax at night and he thinks there's poaching. i asked him if when I see bones on blm it's poaching, and he said yes it's likely poaching. deer season starts next week. this guy was a bow hunter.  i saw arrows in the cab of his truck, or do people do both? I'll have to check and see if it's gun deer hunting or bow deer hunting. 

the yellow grasses and the daisy heads are so beautiful. 

there's teasel and there's ocean spray and sword ferns and horse tail and self heal. it's really a wonderful pallet of colors. this is on the side of the road in a clear cut.

a little further down on the left, a tiny stream trickles melodiously down a narrow strip of trees that have been left as a buffer. there's a few vine maples and some big leaf maples, and one scrawny cottonwood. but it's just a beautiful beautiful trickle. i can't wait to see it running strong after the rains.

i need to start wearing gaiters on these walks, i keep having to stop and pull burrs out of my socks.

we're a part

"Life is a project..."

Massimo Pigliucci, Answers for Aristotle

"In order for the path to be fulfilled, it must be shared."

Debra Seido Martin

"What does matter is that we're a part. Like a thread in a cloth or a

grass-blade in a field. It is and we are. What we do is like wind 

blowing on the grass.”

Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven

As spring moves toward summer and the days warm, I have been 

feeling interconnectedness.  Ideas and lives and plants and birds 

and food and wool.  Thank you and thank you.  

on kawara

I just discovered the artist On Kawara.  He is the last artist profiled in the book I posted about last time.  

Last night I stayed up late, inspired by this painting, "100 Year CalendAr".

https://gerrishfineart.com/product/100-year-calender/

Another image of 100 years, with different days represented as different colored dots depending on (for example) whether he made a painting that day.

I stayed up late, creating a spreadsheet that listed all the days I will be alive.  With blank spots starting now and continuing until 100 years after my birth.

I played with a couple of different formattings, one which would generate a 8.5 inch wide banner about 15.5 inches tall.I have a 16 foot tall wall in my house, so...

With a ladder, I could have a sense of perspective of the scope of my days and life.  I could fill in with a pencil the days as I live them.

Here is a screenshot:

This is also spin off from reading 4000 Weeks: Time Management for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman.  Our lives are both long, and also limited.  We can't comprehend or accept the limitations of the time we have, and thus, sometimes think we can do more than we can.  I copied this: "The limit embracing life...you are no longer befogged and bewildered by a false and misleading illusion about your life".

It feels truly elusive to comprehend the scope of one's days.  At 48 years old, I'm exactly halfway to the age I expect to live to, 96.  So a good time to consider this.  

Going back to On Kawara, I located this video where the artist Annette Lawrence speaks about their shared sensibilities.

Here is her list of what she appreciates (and relates to) about him.  (In her words):

• he's a systems guy
• he makes monumental things about everyday occurrences
• focus on process rather than product
• work is introspective, contemplative, meditative and quiet
• ...and generous
• work is a refuge from our culture that clamors for our attention at every second
• repetition sets up expectations and fulfills them
• that rhythm goes on for decades

[I will have to research Annette Lawrence, also.]

Here's what I'm liking about On Kawara, that I would like to learn from or copy:

• a repetition that slowly accumulates to something  
• mundane rituals: some of these rituals acculumlate to nothing visible, except a life (an accumulation of its own.)  

Kawara came up with a system (his date paintings) and then incorporated dots about them, into the 100 year calendar.  

• a big system and then little systems that support or are part of the big system
• everything being connected makes it simpler
• consistency makes it quieter  

He placed each date painting in a box which he made, lined with a local newspaper, as he traveled the world.

• connected to place and time

The fact that his output was repetitive, likely meant he needed only a limited number of supplies and tools in order to work.  I aspire to 

• a minimum of required possessions

• journals! still a focus on when & where (sadly my trusty red journal brand was discontinued, so my shelf won't look like this)

• telegrams 1969-2000

• other lists: I met, I went
• taking photos of the same view over and over again on different days

Which makes me think of how lately my life has been repetitive in a very satisfying way (we do the same trips each year-end, each march break, each summer).  And to embrace that and allow that to structure my life, could be quite perfect, and satisfying.

Daily, weekly, yearly patterns: a life.

what are we doing?

 

When I thought about that question, it came back to Maslow's hierarchy.  Lots of survival, feeding, sleeping, the basics.   Earning money.  Connecting with other humans, and then further along, you get to: making things nice, and expressing yourself.  Creating.  

(Images of a book by Leonard Koren)

Also: self-discovery.  Luxuries, I guess.  Not to be explored when you are hungry, unhoused.  

Which of the items on the list are ones you want to create for?

the time between

between the silence

before birth

and the silence 

after death

...

are the days

we string up

one after another

waking, quickly going

tasking, then returning

...

i really don't understand

why we move so much

why it's hard to be still

what exactly we think we are doing

...

what are we doing?

subtraction

to find who you are

take away

everything 

you are not

doors that close and doors that open

the constraints of a life...

only so many things you can do

within an hour, a day, a season, a year

if you choose well, it's balanced.

you feel alive, and connected

to both people and a purpose.

Image Credit

The world may respond more enthusiastically to some of your offerings than to others.  

I've pursued paths and had doors close, close, close.

Other times alignment felt magical, and doors opened.  

In 2015 when I left New Jersey, I applied for a timberframing apprenticeship, and did not get in.  I went to a timberframing workshop, got violently ill, and had to leave.  I was introduced to a timber framing mentor, and went out to work with him on a rural property, but things got weird and I chose to leave.  I loved the idea of timberframing, but ultimately I realized it just wasn't working for me.  But all the timber framing experiences have informed my furniture making.  

I moved to Portland Oregon for a month, joined a woodworking maker space, and made furniture.  I made up a residency program that was exactly what I needed at the time.

I let go of timberframing, but opportunities to learn housebuilding skills continued to open up.  Workaway.com provided 2 weeks of learning basic wiring, which I was able to apply at another workaway stay.  I traveled with my van and tools and made friends in the valley where I'd ultimately settle.  I helped a friend build a cabin and learned the basics of conventional framing.

I'd tried to escape teaching, but a teaching job opened up and I took it.  The stability and income enabled me to buy a property and build, first a shed, and then my own house.

...

Now that I am living in the house, I'm curious which doors will open and which will close for me, as I look to my next chapters.  

My teaching position connects me with other teachers, whose wide-ranging experiences and backgrounds open up my perspective.  My students connect me to this community via the experiences they share.  I see the many ways teaching grounds me and supports my life.  

But making things, and design!  I love materials, and tangible, humble, practical objects.  Will it be furniture, houses, or something else?  Is this a new career, or a side hustle? 

Two ways to navigate forward. One is to listen to my heart.  The other is to watch for doors that close, and doors that open.   

...

Today, I choose: to spend the afternoon creating my woodworking space.

your assignment

 ...isn't to be perfect

it's to figure out 

who you are

how to be you

and how to be part of things.

To do so kindly, authentically

quirkily, honestly

humbly, and with a certain

pride 

in the unique notes

you bring

to your community

Where this is headed

Age fifty approaches.  I find flashes of overwhelm, with my things, my tasks, the impossibility of victory over life.  Entropy gains on me.  

Yes - I teach my classes, I do laundry, cook meals, see friends.  I do the things I'm expected to, even appear moderately succesful.  Exercise, bathe and dress, do my hair.  Vitamins, vegetables, doctor visits.

Yet the realization dawns: health problems will increase.  Exposure to injury and harm is unavoidable.  

Somehow, accepting this: that I will ultimately lose the battle with entropy, that I'll succomb to whatever kills me, that I'll sink into the earth sooner or later, it's a relief.  I'm trying to stay on top, but it's to be expected that I'll eventually fail.  Which is how it's supposed to be.

Today I can keep things simple, stay closer to the soil.  When it's time, I will more easily slip beneath it.  I'll let go of my affairs; the creatures and beings that come after me will carry life forward.

Things Humans Do: Going to Church

A friend and I decided to go to a Bahai service.  We characterized this as anthropological research into "things humans do".  Neither of us are interested in finding a church to belong to, but so many humans do join churches, so it seemed worthy of investigation.

The Bahai religion has its roots in Persia (Iran).  I contacted the local Bahai group via their website and chatted with a woman, who shared details with me about various services we could attend.

Many religious groups find their numbers dwindling, as more of us identify as non-religious entirely, or perhaps 'spiritual but not religious'.  This particular group met in a building that may have originally been a home.  Perhaps 12 people joined via zoom, and we sat with 4 other people in what would have been the living room of the house.

We were warmly welcomed and assured that we could participate with comments, questions, or by sharing prayers if we wanted to.  The opening video made clear that this is an inclusive faith that welcomes people of all races and religions.  The video showed fields of tulips and lots of smiling faces, with a song playing over it all.

After that, we read the 8 readings provided in the pamphlet.  Participants in person and on zoom spontaneously read the readings out loud, one at a time.  Since this coming week is the spring equinox, the theme of the service was spring.  One of the readings stated that everything that happens in nature is symbolic of the spiritual world.  Spring represents a renewal in the spiritual world.

After the readings was a time for prayer.  I was surprised that when participants prayed, they used old english, addressing God as "Thou".  People prayed for the world, for friends who are sick, and for some who had recently died (that God would have mercy and turn shortcomings to good).

Prayer was followed by a discussion of the readings.  One person shared that the Bahai faith illuminates her reading of the Bible.  (She may have said that she is also a Christian.)  Others quoted Bahá'u'lláh, the founder of their faith.  Someone asked about a sentence that says that everything in the natural world has its counterpart in the spiritual world.  She seemed to want to understand what this meant literally. 

....

After I came home, I wrote in my notebook:

What is religion for?

-to bring peace to the world (I read this in a Bahai pamphlet)

-to form community (from a sign outside their building)

-to remind us of our shared values and ideals (this is what I sensed from the participants in the service)

....

Do I want a religion?  Or, what type of religion do I want?

This seemed like a good thing to ponder after this experience.

For the three items I listed above:  

-Peace seems like an important objective for all humans!  I am saddened that there are forces that seem to be working towards increased hostility and agitation, but there are also many kind humans who are caring for other people.  I know religious groups have also done practical caring for the poor and homeless as well.  I feel like I can be a force for peace without being part of a religion.

-Community.  I value my community at work and my community of friends.  It's a little overwhelming to add a different circle of friends from a faith group.  When I was new in town, I joined the Quaker community for a while.  Once my relationships broadened, I didn't feel a need for that additional community any more.  I think all relationships can be part of one's community.  I can see the value in a larger group as opposed to many one-on-one relationships, though.

-Shared Values & Ideals.  This area of my life is really personal.  I read books and form my own guiding principles, and at times discuss them with friends, but a group discussion (like would happen in a church setting) just isn't part of my life.  Sometimes I wish others would adhere to the principles I've chosen for myself, but I have to remind myself that they're free to live with their own philosophies.

...

Here are some of my values:

Undivided Life

-I don't like having to use a different type of language (Thee/Thou, old english) to discuss spiritual matters or address God.

-I've always disliked having to put on special clothes (for example skirts) when going to church.

The theme I sense here is that I value a consistency and undividedness in my life.  Can I be the same person in the various parts of my life?

Messy/Real

-The videos were very beautiful but a little too perfect. I guess if someone wants to be uplifted they can focus on only the beautiful parts of life, but there's so much messiness to make sense of.  

I want to be able to look at all the messy, confusing, hard bits of life.  It's all part of the whole.  I'm always looking for order in the chaos but I don't want order at the expense of honesty or realness.  

Questions

-I sense that people want to have explanations or theories for things.  For example, they want to know exactly what their religion teaches on a certain point.  

I don't really find that useful.  What is a particular group's dogma on what happens after death?  Or what is the relationship one should have with God?  Or is there a God?  How does one access him/her?  These are all unanswerable (if valuable) questions.  I actually don't relate to the desire to have it all figured out/sewn up in a neat package of "these are my beliefs".  

I prefer to hold the questions.  I feel that not having the answers keeps me closer to sensing what is true and real.  Questions are the tool for exploring and cracking things open.

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

― Rainer Maria Rilke

spring

It's spring in Illinois.  The air smells different, and many different bird songs surround me when I step outside to try to get some signal on my cellphone.

My trip gave me what I wanted, a sense of the earth.  Bus after bus, hike after hike.  I moved across the Andes, seeing, feeling, smelling, tasting, touching.  A landmass takes time to feel and explore.  My body moved across the land in a thin line, barely scratching it, but the experience lives inside me.  Light, leaves, water, rocks, sky, clouds, snowy mountain peaks.  Conversations in English, Spanish, French, and bits of Portuguese and Quechua mixed in.  Meeting fellow travelers from all over the world, and local dwellers of Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia.

Living with just a few clothes in my pack.  The freedom of solitude, of spontaneous decision making, of anonymously hopping on a bus, minutes after deciding on a destination.  It is a restorative experience.

Three months felt like not quite enough, meaning it was just the right amount of time.  I'm glad to be home.  Time for new things, new directions in life.

Illinois sunset

The changing sky last night kept interrupting me as I made a blueberry shortbread dessert.

 The landscape near my mom & dad's house has changed, with the result that our view of the sunset isn't through trees anymore.

 I kind of like the openness.

 The shortbread turned out great by the way.  I made this recipe.

west and the van

So I've posted a lot of pictures here.  But how about some words?

Sometimes I feel a little dizzy at all the travels.  It's just over three months that I have been on the road.  There have been some stays with friends or family, and other stretches with long drives, other whiles living out of the van while it sat in one place.

The crazy van idea has worked well.  It's functioned for all the various situations I've put myself into. Hotel parking lots work well in urban areas.  National parks have free campsites and the van worked well off-grid.  It worked well parked in a driveway when visiting a friend.  Parked on a farm.

I officially fell in love with the van in Badlands, South Dakota.  I arrived just before dusk after crossing flat prairies all day.

At one point I saw a butte.  It was a little hint:  you're almost there!

Then I arrived at Badlands.  I stepped out of the van, I felt the dry air, and saw the desert landscape around me.  It felt like the west, all of a sudden!

After the sun set I drove through badlands able to see a little in the dusk (although it was too dark for photos).  I noticed lightning to the south so I parked and watched.  After a while I climbed out my window and onto the top of the van.  Evening breezes, lightning flashes in the distance.  A brief sprinkling of rain.  After a while I laid flat on the roof and watched the Milky Way gradually increase in brightness.

And that is when I fell in love with my van.  It's still white and looks boring on the outside.  But it's a good pal for watching the night sky.

photos on instagram

Just because it's easier to do from a phone, I have started posting on instagram.

This is the link, or you can follow me @paulathonney.

Phase 3 of the journey begins now.  Heading over to West Virginia today.

timber frame pavilion

In a couple of weeks I'll be helping to build a timber framed pavilion.  This is a rough sketch of the building, minus the rafters, which will not be timber framed.  A nice basic structure.  Lots of braces.

Hopefully I will have pictures of the real thing to post later this month!

a passage by Sir Wilfred Thesiger

"For years the Empty Quarter [of the Arabian Peninsula] had represented to me the final, unattainable challenge which the desert offered.  Suddenly it had come within my reach.  I remembered my excitement when [British researcher O. B.] Lean had casually offered me the chance to go there, the immediate determination to cross it, and then the doubts and fears, the frustrations, and the moments of despair.  Now I had crossed it.  To others my journey would have little importance.  It would produce nothing except a rather inaccurate map which no one was ever likely to use.  It was a personal experience, and the reward had been a drink of clean, nearly tasteless water.  I was content with that."

From Arabian Sands, by Wilfred Thesiger.

As I prepare to go timber framing next week, Thesiger's thoughts resonate for me.  I've been offered an opportunity, which opens up a different world.  And I know it's going to be hard at times.  But I'm so glad to have the chance.

southern illinois

It's very beautiful here in the summer.  More beautiful still from inside of an air conditioned car!

finish carpentry

In the finish carpentry class we focused a lot on the exterior of the tiny home.  We installed the soffit and fascia boards around the roof.  Then we made corner boards using a biscuit joiner.  We installed the windows with flashing and window trim.  We put up some siding, and got the door installed.

I took these pictures part way through the week.

And these pictures were near the end of the week:

On our last day we hung the door.  The couple who are getting this house built for them will finish the exterior siding and roofing.  Then they will work on the interior over the winter.  There's still a lot to do.  But they're so much farther along from where they were when they delivered the trailer to Heartwood.