The house smells faintly of wood smoke. It is beautiful here. Serene. Earlier when taking my greyhound for a walk through the acres of tall grass, he startled a large owl. It fled from a massive willow and swept overhead across the pasture, it’s long grey wings soaring. The skyline is seemingly painted. Such a sense of surreality to it all. The sun rising over the prairie, those luminous mountain peaks, the glorious rose fire of sunset, the glittering city lights in the distance. The night sky is dark and mysteriously layered. There is space here for finding peace. Space for finding self.
Such an odd thing to move without one’s children. Granted they are adults and don’t live at home anymore and I am a mere forty-two minutes away if one were counting (further from my son and daughter-in-law in Denver) but still quite accessible and a new era begins. It has never been just Doug and I.
As I walk up the long ramp of the deck to enter the house I feel as though I am walking up a dock, a sense of vacation permeates this place. Entering through the door and into the warm kitchen, quaintly decorated, I feel as if I have rented a cabin for the weekend. I may have to return home Monday. But in fact, this is home. What a wondrous thing.
I don’t feel like this is a farm. In fact, the idea of having a farm exhausts me. This past year I attempted to grow enough vegetables for market, to start a CSA for milk and vegetables. To sell dozens of eggs. I could only grow enough food for us. I only had enough milk for our use and for making cheese. The chickens went on strike. Interns are no longer in my future. I like my space too much. I will continue to teach classes. I will have friends over for tea. I will grow enough for us, have another milker to sell fresh goat’s milk next year, and now that the chickens are penned up in an eight food high large coop and yard, I should be able to locate their eggs! No, I do not want a farm. This is a farmstead. A homestead with farm animals and a large garden. It is a place to sustain ourselves and to teach others how to do the same. A place to find inspiration and joy. New memories to come. Our farmstead, our homestead, our new place is here. I can hardly believe I am not dreaming.