RAVEN BAKERY
  • Home
  • About
    • Bakery
    • Weds Orders
    • Market Menu
  • Order
  • Stories
    • Newsletter
    • Up Rye Zine
    • Press
    • Instagram
  • Contact
    • Jobs

The Problem With Forts

2/17/2018

 
I used to build forts in these woods. Sometimes, they were only sketches: this stump is the table; that red cedar is the wall; the front door is here, between two stones; those bits of sea glass, smooth beach rocks veined with pink and green, feathers, and drying seed pods lined up along the log are my treasures. I always walked in the front door.
​
Other times the forts were more solid, like the lean-to I built against the upended roots of a toppled fir. I stole sheets of moss from the forest floor, and laid them over the slanted roof, hoping they would grow over the whole structure.
Picture
​The problem with forts, whether built in the forest, or in the living room with curtains and couch pillows, or piled from driftwood, or tunneled into deep snow, is that all the pleasure is in the building. Once you’re done, you have a dark cave of some sort. Often, it’s rather damp, and maybe your knees are wet from kneeling to line up stones along the invisible interior walls, and it’s probably raining (in my memory of childhood summers, it always rained through the 4th of July), and breakfast was a long time ago.
​
For hours and hours you’ve worked with intense, imagination-fueled focus, unheeding of the damp creeping up from the wet hems of your sleeves, caught up fully in the wonder of your creation. Only now, with the construction complete, does your concentration waver. Maybe you crawl inside the lean-to and sit for a minute, looking around in the dim light at the mud and sticks, and the little treasures tucked into the tree roots' crooked fingers, while the wet drips down your hair and inside your shirt collar. Maybe you fuss for a minute more, moving things just so, but the purpose is gone. So you crawl out again, and thrash your way back through the woods, and home for lunch.

Wednesday 2/21
TOASTED SESAME ($8) Umami and crunch.
MOUNTAIN RYE ($7)
VOLLKORNBROT ($8)

Wednesday 2/28
OAT & HONEY ($8) Sweet, tender, and perfect for toast.
MOUNTAIN RYE ($7)
VOLLKORNBROT ($8)

Wednesday 3/7
MÉTEIL ($8) A beautifully crackled rye/wheat country bread.
MOUNTAIN RYE ($7)
VOLLKORNBROT ($8)

​Sophie
Owner | Baker
P.S. The monthly winter farmers market is today! Raven Breads won't be there, but you should still go and wander through the Market Depot, if only to give yourself a good reason to leave the house on this rather damp Saturday.

Comments are closed.

    BY SUBJECT

    All
    Bakery Dreaming
    Bicycles
    Books And Other Stories
    Bread Without Metaphor
    Business Values
    Changing Seasons
    Childhood
    Community
    Endings
    Harvest Forage Glean
    Kitchen Sink Philosophy
    Learning / Teaching
    Magic And Imagination
    Opinion
    Starting With The Soil
    The Body
    The Commissary
    The Garden
    The Sky
    The World Outside
    Time
    Travel
    Wonder

  • Home
  • About
    • Bakery
    • Weds Orders
    • Market Menu
  • Order
  • Stories
    • Newsletter
    • Up Rye Zine
    • Press
    • Instagram
  • Contact
    • Jobs