Tall timbers and sharp blades

Long ago, Paul Bunyan surveyed Minnesota’s great north woods, his honed axe glistening beneath autumn’s golden poplars and bristled pines. “There’s a chill in the air,” said the giant lumberjack. Babe, his blue ox, snorted a knowing reply. With a mighty swing, Bunyan unleashed himself on the forest, felling a 10-mile timber tract that Babe dutifully dragged clear. “It will be a cold, snowy winter here,” said Bunyan. “But we lumberjacks fear neither cold nor snow. We fear only a dull blade. And there is nary a dull blade among us now as we set upon our annual firewood foray.”

– Jayson Hron


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