In 2019 I stumbled across several construction sites in my neighborhood and felt that the workers were doing very hard work. First, I saw them working in the cold, then during rainy days, later in the heat, with loud machines and the smell of tar all around. I started talking to some of them and found out, they had one thing in common: most of them loved their job. They were proud and they loved to be outside, and to work with their machines. I felt that they had a strong connection to the outside world, to the soil, the wet earth, sand, wind, rain, light – all those things I sometimes find myself striving for. My assumptions about ‹the poor workers› were contradicted in some ways, but clearly the hard work is unhealthy and a lot of the workers are overly tired after their shifts.
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