Larch logs piled up in front of the cabin, just as they always have been.
That was the tradition.

By doing this the people living in  the house could get themselves ready in the summer and then sit back and wait for winter to come.
Every corner of the façade of the house would be covered with the piles of logs.

Log piles were the the symbol of utmost comfort and good preparation for the following winter.

Cutting logs and making woodpiles is a task that people have been doing for centuries and is still a tradition in rural areas.

This is a classic image, nothing out of the ordinary.

If we observe this scene from the standpoint of an average citizen, it appears to us as something charming, picturesque.  

Everything nicely in its place, a romantic mountain image.

The physical exertion and the need for this effort are alien concepts.

As we approach this process from a distance, we are invited to rethink this necessity and to play with the image of the woodpile.
If we allow ourselves to be completely pragmatic, this can even seem irritating for the people living in this house, who only see a pile of logs.

We play at turning this apparent normality on its head and we change the context,

causing a slight irritation as we discover a new image and make a new creation.

This can seem annoying even for those who in reality always knew how to make a good woodpile.

We invite them to let go and reconnect with their senses and experiences.