for real
Living like this for real, for ever, or for a longer period of time would be easy for me. I like these slow freeway-less days. I like these rituals.
I like waking up to the roosters call as soon as the day creeps up on the darkness and delivers a shade of gray through the window. It’s good to walk outside through the marine layer that makes the air less than 65 degrees for the first half-hour of morning. Goats greeting me at the gate, singing their song of hunger is the sound of innocence and intent. It’s satisfying to cut through the thick dried hay, rationing off three slices for each goat, opening an aroma that is the epitome what sweet and green smells like. The ritual the girls and I do before anything else, before food or dress, is my favorite. We say good morning to all the animals. First the dogs come to us as we walk the drive, barking their heads off like they don’t know us and don’t stop their noise until we pet each and call them by name. They’re farm dogs, guarding the goats and chickens from creatures of the mountains. Then we go and meet up with the chickens and roosters. Mia notices and tells me which ones need love and healing–the ones on the lower end of the pecking order with hot spots and missing feathers from being harassed and chased by any animal above them in their own farm caste system. Then we travel over to the new little kittens that live in the delapitated and rusty old RV that sits dead across the field under a majestic oak tree. Our favorite kittens are ANgelface, an orange and white one and Black Claw, a pure ebony kitty. Finally, with apple scraps in our pockets we head over to our favorites: horses. They are grand and sweet. Big animals with big hearts. The once grumpy pony is not so grumpy anymore. He enjoys the fruit treats we bring him. His once freakish blue eyes have turned a soft and serene hue of longing and loyalty. A little love has softened his heart and I no longer worry that he may head-butt us.
I like not having to get in a car to find some serenity and peace, some sort of obvious natural connection. I am living in the middle of it and it makes my desire to sit in stillness in the wide open very easy. I like getting sweaty and dusty with the girls after long walks down to the river, our feet covered in darkness and our fingernails filled with the rootiness of the earth and our legs speckled with small red bites from pesky bugs. I like all three of getting in the shower and cleaning off together and then after that maybe traveling down the spiraling mountain into town for some food for dinner. I like pouring my glass of wine earlier than I ever have poured it before because in all honesty being alone with the 2 kids in the middle of nowhere will clearly drive one insane. But alcohol therapy and a sense of letting go to all expectations regarding my toddlers behavior is a good cure. I especially like cuddling in bed with both of them listening to the fading sounds of all the animals…a few cockle-doodles, a couple of neighs, some bah-ing from the goats until all there is the sing-song of the crickets and random dog barking and the occasional coyote howl. I like falling asleep with the cool breeze of the valley sweeping through the curtains, forcing us to dig deeper into the blankets finding warmth inside cotton and near each others flesh.
I always seem to find myself in places like these but for some reason I always end up back in the concrete playgrounds, with schedules and too many errands and shopping/to do lists to fill my days with purpose. Even though my personal desire for isolation is intense, and the need to sit atop the mountain alone and chant is great, I guess my draw to places which offer constant interaction with people is somehow necessary and meaningful. So I always wind up in the thickness of society; mingling, driving, rushing, scheduling.
I wonder if there is a place for us that bring both those worlds together evenly. Community and rural isolation. I hope soon that I can find both of those and balance them perfectly. Each one gives me equal strength and each one allows me to be completely in the moment with the other.
