I love my woodheap. Perhaps it’s because I grew up in chilly Tasmania and now live in the Blue Mountains village of Blackheath (aka BLEAKHEATH). Oh that promise of cheerfulness and warmth.

It is also a perfect sun trap on our property in autumn and winter.

Despite being past the age of 70 I am still chief wood splitter and fire lighter in our household. It is a position I am loath to relinquish, although as a concession I no longer use an axe. An electric saw and a wood splitter are my tools of trade. To be honest, I find the whole process therapeutic.

MY SAWING TECHNIQUE LACKS FINESSE, BUT NEVER MIND.

I still wear clip earrings, and have lost a few with my almighty splitting blows. To the amusement of friends I now park them in a convenient stump. 😍

Ideally the woodheap should be covered. I love this idea from Berrima in the NSW Southern Highlands. Recycling at its best.

An old tank shelters a woodheap.
EXTENDED LIFE FOR AN OLD TANK

My little haven. sitting on the stone seat is my associate, Editor Des;

What an achievement eh? 😎

The woodheap is complete.

Just when everything was perfect….calamity! For heavens sake…. I told Des not to climb on the pile. 😰

Oh no, collapse of the woodheap.
DOWN IT CAME!

MEMORIES

The woodheap was the setting for my first experience of a truly gentlemanly act. I was about 13 and busy splitting sticks when a neighbour’s son a couple of years older arrived to spend time with my brother. I was touched when he said, ‘Hey, let me do that for you.’ A small gesture, but it made a huge impression on me. Thank you Dennis.

THE OLD WOODHEAP AND OUR FARM DOGS CIRCA 1960

Who knows how many cricket bats my siblings and I fashioned from old fence palings? A few well directed chops to form a handle and we were ready!

On a more disturbing note, that woodheap was where chickens and ducks were dispatched by my father.

COMPANY AT THE WOODHEAP

There is another joy to a woodheap….birds, especially magpies, blue wrens and inquisitive yellow robins. They hop about hoping bugs will appear from the split wood.

I’M SURE TO FIND SOMETHING HERE

As soon as I start up my little electric saw the wrens arrive in a family group of about a dozen.

Here is the Eastern Yellow Robin, with his characteristic sideways ‘lookout’ perch;

Eastern yellow robin at the woodheap
OH GOOD, PAULINE IS SPLITTING WOOD

My reward? Sheer bliss on a chilly night.

Recently I split a log and exposed a pair of hibernating lizards…along with their lodger!

Result of my work on the woodheap..

We only burn dry, well seasoned wood (mostly gum) to reduce smoke pollution, but I know this form of heating has its critics.

HERE IS A WONDERFUL INTERVIEW WITH LEAH PURCELL ON THE WOODPILE IN HENRY LAWSON’S THE DROVER’S WIFE.

For information and advice on wood burning fires and wood smoke CLICK HERE.

4 Comments
  1. Great pics. Currently visiting youngest son who has very neat woodpiles too.

    • Pauline

      I suspect his wood stacks are a bit neater than mine! 😍

  2. Growing up on the farm in the 1950s, we had a wood-burning stove. So the woodheap was an essential part of our lives. We started the fire each morning with ‘chips’, short thin slivers, then kept it going through the day with larger pieces. There was a ‘wood box’ in a corner of the kitchen that my brother was supposed to keep full, but it usually ended up with Mum cutting what was needed herself.

    • Pauline

      Thanks for taking the trouble to leave a comment Barbara. It was so similar for our family.

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