Sculptor of the Earth

February 12, 2010

Two years ago while living on the west coast of the U.S.A. I had the opportunity to rebuild another old structure. It too was a barn aged over one hundred years. The amount of time didn’t help it from not becoming a gray and red parallelogram.

The old barn appeared like it was basically going to fall down. Like a lot of old barns, they later do; and for whatever reasons many outlast a generation plus of octogenarians. Sometimes this depends on the foundations or what the heck is keeping them up in the day to year’s unknowns of construction; buckets of galvanized as well as square nails of every size and in each board works wonders.

The barn was right next door to an 85 acre place where I was living. When first noticing, anyone would think it was part of the same property. Someone would have to tell them differently. In this case no one did until the barn was well past the beginning of the rebuilding process. Regardless it was magnificent; creatively.

The mman in charge of this process was the Sculptor of the Earth. While he was in his 80’s he was both quite physically and mentally fit. Physically his knees were still working pretty well and the rest of him seemed to be in good shape too.

Mentally, Bob’s head was probably working better than most 50 year olds, give or take a decade. When first meeting him he was in the process of taking the second floor of his house off; piece by piece with the help of hand tools and many electrical tools at his side; huge tractors, back hoe’s and of course a few good dogs. Year round an important tool was a large cooler of lite beer kept full, at the ready.

Later he did rebuild a new roof over the first floor while adding a back porch as well as almost a whole new interior. His house had to be over 5000 square feet after the deconstruction and rebuilding process. He was also a lone after building.
While noticing his deconstruction I had asked to rebuild the old barn. Before entering in the rental agreement I had hoped this to be a possibility; a new studio.

I had in fact asked if this was possible at the time of signing the rental agreement. I was hoping to use many of the materials he was going to discard as recycle building materials. The rebuilding of the old barn was the issue. He gladly said yes after deciding he liked the idea of saving everything he could for a new use. This of course saved him the trouble of digging a bigger hole behind his house.

He knew I wanted to use the new/old barn as a working studio but waited a few weeks before agreeing to this. I later found out that he in fact was not the owner. That’s more stories but suffice it to say I did use the place for just about a year after working on the remodel for over six months; alone with all the tools at hand.

Bob was a hard worker that’s for sure. He woke up in the dark and went to bed well after dark; most times by falling asleep to the TV. He was a long time retired Marine but still a part of the active reserves as a sergeant. An E-8 with hash marks up and down the sleeve of his uniform was his pride of joys or something on that level of dedication. After Iraq began he tried to go active again but age said - not.

He was part of the cadre of enlisted men who will always have Marine in their blood and of course other parts no matter what clothes happen to be hanging on their shoulders. His conversations always began or ended with a drill sergeant’s tone of search and destroy confidence of either a Sir, or a, Well, son;

Being around Bob for as long as I was, naturally there are lots of stories to tell about the mman both from looking outside and those he’s expressed from within. He loved working, period. Being active all his life I’mm pretty sure not being able, won’t kill him if he couldn’t. Although I’d not want to be around during all that.

He’s one of those guys who will hang on until his wheel chair, not oiled will disintegrate to rust. But that will never happen because he’d notice the rust. He’d probably train a new dog that could move to oil it. By that I mean if there’s a weed to pick or a small pebble to move Bob will find a way to do it, regardless.

Needless to say, the man was and still is an amazing human being. I’ve not heard from him for a few years but sure he’s still in the same routine of dark to dark. Guys like him are like the old military saying they, ‘Never Die but Fade Away.’

Maybe he’s slowed a bit with the passing of his long time girlfriend. I wouldn’t doubt that he’s done other things to pick up the slack. Last time in his presence he was still working in his back yard; sitting on one of those huge tractors with a humongous bucket on the front. What was he doing? He was digging a new lake.
Bob is definitely a:

Sculptor of the Earth

He carves the earth - sow paramount,
Contours ‘n colour - his plates
Its beauty that sir round’s us
Yes, we si his love’s his weight

His heart’s the goaled
That heaven’s scent
When he begins his day
His sun rise waits
His sun’s set - miles
His aggra gate’s June to May

Excavate, bury all earth his tern
Heaves up, sighed, downed, pour now
He unlocks blocked ponds, hose Gray flows
Walk’s back yards, feeds the cows

Heel’s plant pleasant flowers
Greens reach, trims, bushed
No scraggly mess in deed
He’ll even bend down his ripe’s old age
Hands pull ends, prods dew, phew! Weeds

Sow, that’s not all, no nary, try far
His wake hours dark to dark
His final play his bed two rest
Works gazed his place; a park

His bye end bye his hands ‘n aye
This relic of Bob dark earth
Won’t stop until heels seize for sure
Wear better since his girth

Just one moored won ‘n sow he goes
Yes, no he won’t stop their
He’ll climb his roof and yours, too know
Fix damage, clean, re: pare

No matter angles up high ‘fore low
Your miles, watch, never dumb
Until he knows for sure his worth
Jar head, cut crew he’s one

One day heel’s say, “You know this pal?
Our world will be no more
Wheel’s locked ‘n watch another race
Our bars won’t shut their doors.”

Well all one asks when questions that is
Brothers still are banned?
Our? Those who live the faith full claimed?
Sculpt earth, love plants, fellow Man;