Steve Ordano, one of our local carvers composed this poem
Each year carvers gather
they come from far and wide
To make some magic happen
where the shoreline meets the tide
When the gun goes off
the big saws will be blazing
Four days from now
these logs will look amazing
Big Stihl or Husky
no matter what your flavor
The barking of raw horsepower
the sweet sound we all savor
Everywhere you look
sawdust chips are flying
They came to show off their best
a dream there will be no denying
Rough cuts have been made
the carving tips come out
There is still enough noise
to be heard you still have to shout
From the raw beginner
to the seasoned vet
Each hoping their piece
will be their best work yet
Eager to try out
the latest carving tool
With this new weapon in hand
it should turn out extra cool
A first time novice
with Jerry by her side
She has no reason to worry
with him as her guide
Some are amazingly talented
others, armed only with desire
Scorching sun or pouring rain
shall not dampen that artistic fire
Dead on their feet
at the end of each day
Why do I do this to myself ?
I’ve heard many carvers say
There is something about this place
where the river meets the sea
Getting together with carving family
there is no place I’d rather be
Steve Ordano
