The farm is a good place to be to recover from energy being depleted.   Makes me think of the little clover coming up now, the cover crop meant to heal and nourish the soil.  It has been struggling to really come into its own, due to about a month of no rain after it was planted back in September.  We took a walk this morning.  I noticed myself adjusting my eyes to see things in the distance, far-off farms, tree lines, rolling landscape.  That was quite a relief.  Re-membering, once again.  The big old maple by the creek is always there, like an anchor.

The little homestead and its white buildings – very reassuring.

There were projects to be done, several of which resulted in a lot of mud on the tractor wheels.  I may need to do some research into what the best way is to get that off.  Yet, the projects were a success and it felt good and real to be on the tractor, with a purpose.  Just the fact of walking into the barn and noticing how it smells was rejuvenating  – it smelled of some hay I had in there recently, or old wood, or tools – even though it is a new barn, and there is no old wood in it.  I think my cousins would refer to it as a “shed.”  I am relieved it smells that way, though new, because that is something really good about a barn/shed.  I didn’t think I would get to one project today, but I did – a cleaning and resituating of the art studio.  I learned recently that we might not do things we love to do if it takes even 20 seconds to prepare for them.  It kills me sometimes how backwards humans are.  The space is within 20 seconds of art now, again.  Not fancy, but welcoming.

Tonight after taking the studio-cleaning trash out to the road for morning pickup, I let the dogs wander around some in the fenced part of the yard under the stars.   I suddenly realized that it felt pretty warm out still, and, instead of hurrying them in, I sat down on a chair and looked up at the stars.  The night was clear and deep, and all the constellations were visible.  It was almost like the Northern sky, but a little farther away.  The air was slightly cool, and a faint scent of a neighbor’s smoldering burn pile drifted around.  I thought, that’s right, all of this just fits into the whole, the tiniest to the most expansive.  I remember that now, again.  This is the meaning of Grace.