A Day in the Woods, or Lack Thereof

Fellow adventurers, a word. I, Bjorn, sought to gather lumber in the North Forest of Britain today. The trees, it seems, have developed a most vexing sense of humor. I would march to the forest, raise my axe with great purpose... and find not a single log worthy of the effort. This strange dance repeated more times than my pride cares to admit. I am beginning to suspect the very forest itself is mocking me. Perhaps it is time to find a new profession. Or a new axe. Or perhaps just a long nap.