searching for soul and soil

weighted down by 250 trees stuffed into bags on my sides, i am sent up a really steep hill covered in death. dead trees, logs, leaves litter the ground. i am expected to plant these 250 trees, and do it quickly. no soil to be seen, just slash. i have to do what they call "skreef" (not sure on the spelling, not sure that it's a real word.) so i skreef, removing the top layer of dead stuff with my boot. when i see something that resembles soil, i slam my little shovel into the ground. instead i hit a rock and the pain vibrates up my left arm. discouraged, an move my gaze a little to the left. more skreefing. soil! i plunge my shovel into the ground with ease. but, this time, i reveal red chunks of a tree that once stood tall. red rot. can't plant in rocks, can't plant in red rot. can't plant. 30 whole seconds has passed by this time, and i am quickly losing money.

sometimes at this point i crouch down in my land and cry.

sometimes at this point i take my shovel and smash it repeatedly on the nearest obstacle. this usually results in injury.

sometimes i take a deep breath and continue searching for a place to plant a tree. 249 to go before my next bag up.

i am on the world's largest rollercaster right now. over the last few weeks i have thought about going home dozens of times.
if i give up, where do i go?

the truth is, home is not ottawa. home is not ontario. home for the time being is in the bush with a bunch of other people who are not at home.

it is though we have all stepped out of time. it passes differently. in the outside world i have been gone not three weeks. for me, it feels like i have been gone months. all that has happened, all the people i have met, all the things i have experienced.

i still have a while to go.

my new home is in a tent on one of the nicest beaches i have ever seen.