The sun was warm, and the breeze felt good. James stood in the open land, swinging his axe at a steady pace. Each chop was smooth, each log split clean. As he worked, he whistled a slow tune, calm and easy.

After a while, he paused, resting the axe on his shoulder. He took a deep breath, looking at the stack of wood he had built up. "Not bad," He muttered to himself.

He wiped some sweat off his forehead and glanced at the sky. "Gonna be a long day," He said, not bothered by it. Then, with a small sigh, he grabbed another log, lined it up, and got back to work.