Life in a fire lookout tower meant working in solitude and silence for days on end. Some people thrived on the isolation. Others found it tough.

Oh, a towerman’s life---a towerman’s life---
A towerman’s life is not bad with a wife-
But when you’re alone, it sure ain’t like home--
Before you start working examine your dome!

You wear out your pants---you wear out your shoes---
You cook your own meals and you don’t get no booze.
You slowly go batty---believe your own lies---
You nearly go blind from the sun in your eyes!

I can see all the country from Bolkow to Sheahan
And watch Lou go by in his flying machine.
Oh! well—it’s a job—and I really feel great
When reporting the ‘smokes’ Lou can’t see
from his crate.

But when summer’s gone---let me tell all you guys---
I’ll never come back to the bush and the flies.
I’ll head for the city---you won’t see me here--
Unless I am broke again---April, next year.

Moreau, L. “A Towerman’s Lament.” Sylva: The Lands and Forests Review. Vol 19, No 3 (1953)

Photo Credit:
Canadian Bushplane Heritage Centre [Towerman]