Here’s evidence of my handiwork today. 12 more little sandstones laid for our walking path.
My, we need this path. Currently we traipse over sheets of plywood well-molded to the curve of the ground. I have a goodly pile of repurposed bricks for the project, but first I have to change the angle of my walk. Then the bricks can march happily, straight out to the driveway.
I’m using these found sandstones to get the walk directed to the right angle. They are fairly even in thickness with clean edges. My favorite wading creek has fair riches of them, a gift from the earth and the running water. I give thanks as I lay each one.
Though more uniform than most rocks, the sandstones still have unique shapes. Mounding up the clay and conversely scraping it away, I create a supporting bed for each stone. As I do so I ponder on these shapes, the beauty of them, and how they fit together.
If you’ve laid a path before, I can hear the discussion yer havin’ with me. Yes, I do know the proper way of laying a path. Dig a depth of at least three inches more than the thickness of the paver. Level the base. Tamp down a bed of leveled sand, then place your pavers.
I’m much like these pieces of sandstone. Maybe I seem uniform and normal to most. But on closer inspection, I’m not. The 12 stones I referenced at the beginning…that was all I had the energy for today. There’s not enough of me to do the job the right way before weather would make a muddy trench of sand.
Hire it out.
I could. But that money has many other places I’d rather it go. Plus there’s a deep yearning within me to do it myself. It’s a yearning that pulls deep from my past and this place. We hillfolk often do things ourselves and not always because of poverty. There is pride in the process.
My little walk will be about eight feet long when completed. I will know every brick and stone personally. The clay beneath them shaped to hold each unique stone. It will not be a perfectly level path, but it will tell a story to those who can hear it.
Lay a path the wrong way…it’s a lot like making a place for people who aren’t quite uniform. How many of us live life on a perfectly level surface?
A person may need some more space here…a bit of extra support there….
We might have to make an adjustment or two, flip things around, even try a new spot or two to accommodate them…but if we’re willing to take the time and effort, there’s a place for everyone…
Even someone who can only lay 12 stones a day.
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