Menemsha Sunset, that is all.
Be well, and enjoy your day!
I love the sea, I love a rural landscape. I love quaint village charm.
Martha’s Vineyard is sprinkled lavishly with the irresistable allure of its seafaring past, interwoven with farmsteads, artists, and unpretentious beauty.
This island is not trying to be anything more than it is; leaving aside the germane need tourists may have for t-shirts, arcades, and the stipulation to be regaled, this, this island is honest.
The roads (other than the main highways) are dirt, rutted, and furrowed.
The fishermen have this north-east island life hardships etched into their face, divulging her secret struggles, with the weather, with time, and changing earth.
Verdant farms dot the mid-island landscape. Farmer stands, and markets offer a seasonal supply of freshness. Sustainability and a natural approach to life and farming are central.
Days are slow, they are meant to be. Savor the fresh salty air, the warm ocean breeze. Take a moment, simply feel the suns gentle rays.
Stand on her cliffs and wonder.
Imagine winter’s lonely nights as light keeper.
Be stirred by the wonder of spring’s arrival.
Contemplate memories of childhood, of sandcastles, starfish, and shells.
It is a place bursting with sustenance for the soul.
But, home,well home is where I thrive, the hills, the green fields, pastoral scenes, the barns, and the people.
All it takes to appreciate what you have is to be without it for awhile.
Hope you are well,
I have dreams, I have hopes, and I have aspirations.
Can I wait around for some fairy Godmother to to tap me with her wand?
Nah, probably not; I’ve got things to do, time is awastin’, and I’m not getting any younger.
Because I don’t speak of these things much, (until I am ready to share); it may appear to others that I just jump into things, willy-nilly. This could not be further from the truth, I research ad-nauseam. Make a plan, then research some more. (Are you nauseous yet?) I am almost ready! We’ve spoken to our local LDC and are set for our second meeting.
The Llamas are excited. Really they are.
The goats delirious. Can’t you just see the excitement in their eyes?
No? Look deeper.
…and the dogs, well, the dogs could give a hoot.
There are no balls, bones, or games involved, so they just choose to ignore the happenings around here.
They pretend they can’t see the yarn wrapped around their paws, in their water dish, and atop their heads. They lie on top of fabric scraps; try to take freshly stitched sweaters for their own, try to wear cowls, and make chew toys of thread spools.
It is going to be lots of work, lots of fun!
And the best part; I get to do it all in our freshly(to be) built barn.
The dogs really do like that part.
Alright then, let’s get to work.
Uhmm, where are you all going? We’ve got work to do.
Ah, well. There must be something in self-reliance.
“If you are a dreamer come in If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer If you’re a pretender com sit by my fire For we have some flax golden tales to spin Come in! Come in!” ― Shel Silverstein
Be well, Jess
How much do you try to fit in those little shreds and patches of time between the usual things to be done.
I tossed the laundry in to the basket, grabbed the bowl of pins. loaded up the washer with the next load then headed out to hang them in the sun and breeze.
Walking back from the clothes line out back near the far pasture; I notice some weeds in the garden. I stop to pull the few I noticed; as I pulled, I noticed more. The seeing, pulling, and shifting went on for some time. My back was sore, then I looked at the clock, I had been at it for 3/4 of an hour. I had missed the rinse cycle on the washer, no softener in this load.
What continues to astonish me about a garden is that you can walk past it in a hurry to get to the next task at hand, see something wrong, stop to fix it, and emerge an hour or two later breathless, contented, and wondering what on earth happened.
Do fill the cracks of time so tight you couldn’t slip paper between the minutes? Do you accomplish more when you think you don’t have enough time?
I have a list of things to be done a mile long. This list seems to the should haves, at the end of the day I wonder why I didn’t hem those pants (sorry Mike), why didn’t I trim the dog, (sorry Finn), why didn’t I trim his hair, (sorry honey).
“What may be done at any time will be done at no time.”
– Scottish Proverb
I did however: weed the garden, hang the laundry, help Jenn with her knitting, do the dishes, make the beds, vacuum the rugs, feed the animals, throw the ball for Lexi, clean the chicken coupe, plan dinner, write this post, respond to emails, and its only noon!
“It is not enough to be busy, so are the ants. The question is, what are we busy about?”
– Henry David Thoreau
I have much to learn.
Walking and conversation seem to go hand in hand. Inspired conversation, thoughts from deep within, the longer the walk the deeper the conversation.
I think I could write an interesting memoir of outstanding walks I have taken with others, during which togetherness was not only shared but settled tenderly into the landscape of memory.
When I was a child, my sisters and I used to walk, from the busstops to home, through parks, across fields and up and down hills.
We talked of many things, some meaningful (to very young children) and some completely outrageous, and quite a few very tall stories emerged on those walks.
Whatever the content of the talking, those walks and those conversations remain important memories for me of my attachment to my family, and to nature.
We used to stop along the way to look for Lady Slippers, a protected native orchid. We found a few. We found Poison Ivy more often.
The content of these walks have become blurred, now they’re more a painting in my memory. There, As a whole, no particular parts. Cherished.
“As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.”
– Henry David Thoreau
Get out there, it’s good medicine.
I am the walkingist girl around, we (my husband or daughter and I) try to put in 6 miles a day, though we don’t always achieve this; weather has her own say in things.
I have been crazy busy, trying to get the gardens back in shape after the long, cold winter, and two seasons had passed by with little to no attention.
What a job.
I sheared a friend’s llamas and the goats are sheared; of course today is 50*. I’m certain they’re questioning my motives right about now.
With a life so busy and full of to do lists, it’s easy to miss the pocket-sized moments of beauty and wonder, isn’t it?
I need reminding, from time to time, to lift my head from my daily tasks ~ listen to the birds chirp their own particular warble…
Notice that one cloud, as it moves past the sun, beams radiating warmth on your upturned face.
Let nature take hold of your soul, breathe her in, fill your heart.