The Starter Farm

Coming Home

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I’m sitting on a plane returning from a family trip, watching a movie about food, life and vegetables and I’m sobbing.  It’s not a sad movie but I’m welling up in all the wrong places.  At first, I did not know why but slowly it comes to me. I miss home.  I miss the farm and all that it provides.  I’m inspired from this little independent movie and for some reason a sense of renewal is awakening.  The past two months I’ve written nothing because I’ve not been moved.  Maybe it’s being away from the farm for too long or focusing on chores a bit too much when I’m present but I’m not interested in forcing a story or having content just to fill a page.  I desire to fill the lines with stories that move me.

            I feel like last week when the first real winter rains came down in sheets, flooding the dry earth, overflowing the gutters, and I realized I should have done a better job of cleaning them.  We were so happy as a community with people talking of nothing else in town.  These first rains renewed sprits and gave hope to the local farmers.  Maybe, just maybe this would be the year the drought’s thirst would be quenched and life could return to normal.  Oh how washing the earth clean of dust and dirt changes people especially in farming communities.  Some how I’m changed as well.  I feel more driven, creative and realize that I need to put more energy into what ever this is.  Much like my vegetables, my inspiration needs to be nurtured but instead of with water and weeding, with literature, influence and just plain living.  We move too fast and you can’t blame me because I’m a “child of the MTV generation”.  But the reality is I’m stopping more to absorb more.

            I remember years ago in a bleak parking lot in the middle of Hollywood waiting for a friend to emerge from her square building.  I had a moment and there it was, a gorgeous plume of purple bougainvillea tucked into the corner of this drab lot.   It was incredible.  I’m not sure if it was the juxtaposition of extremes but it stopped me in my tracks, this gift of color from nature.  The world stopped, the noise of everyday life was muted, the sun directed its spotlight on this tiny peace of beauty and I was there to witness it.  I realized then that beauty surrounds us all the time but many people never slow down enough to see it. 

            I’m seeing more of it every day.  I spend more time watching the sun paint the most beautiful colors in the sky creating nature’s artwork, the first tulip to bloom in the spring and that solitary mushroom to pop up in the middle of the grass after a rain emerging like a lone tower on an empty lush green battlefield.  What’s wonderful is that things happens everyday like a grand show that plays 24/7.  How fantastic.  Our own daily theater for free that we just have to slow down a bit to see. 

            Is it sadness or happiness I feel as I watch this on-board film?  I once had a friend who told me that I needed to go talk to a therapist because I was too happy.  I laughed imagining that he wanted me pay someone money to uncover some deep buried reasons for me to live life sadder. No thank you.  I told him I would just keep whatever that is supposed to depress me buried and live life finding happiness in the smallest things everyday.  I think making everyday the best day it can be is a much better way to spend my life.

            I’m smiling now as I eagerly wait for my plane to return home.  I’m looking forward to my hands returning to feel the coolness of the winter soil, to brush the new winter coats of our dairy goats and once again sit on the porch and discover what new painting nature will surprise me with tonight as the sun sets.  I guess when you find that place you truly belong, leaving it becomes harder and harder.

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