Sometimes, I let the longing into my heart. Do you know that feeling? The one that aches....yearns. The one responsible for the audible sighs at times when the person next to you might be wondering if they did something to perturb you. No. It was just me, letting my thoughts slip away into my daydreams.
My daydreams of space and quiet and rhythm and natural abundance. Of green. And breezes. Of dappling light filtered by thick deciduous forest. Of tall grasses and open windows. Cycles. Seasons. Reins and barns. The smell of fresh hay. Blooms -- each taking their turn. The rainbow working its way backward. Purple and blues in the tender, sweet spring. Yellow, oranges, and red in the heat of summer. And then those warm hues blanketing us all for a just snap again come autumn. Chores. Laundry on the line. A woodstove and it's wood pile. Wool blankets and books. Tea and coffee. Soup and French bread. Candlelight and family. Bedtime stories. Magic. Secrets. Fleeting childhood.
Yes, sometimes I dream of a time and place that is not here. A life of long ago. It doesn't help that I've been reimmersed (this time through audiobooks) to Laura Ingalls' Little House novels and my own little nightyly addiction of Lark Rise to Candleford. Oh, some of us are always searching for simpler times, I suppose. Yet, those times were anything but simple. Maybe fewer options: feast vs. famine, health vs. sickness, rich vs. poor, etc. I must believe that life is hard and trying and beautiful and touching no matter time and place.
When I'm immersed in my own little humble homestead, surrounded by distractions - noise, traffic, blighted lots all around, I find peace in my outdoor nooks. Little seeds planted over the seasons since we've moved here slowly sprout and thrive. There's so much more work to be done. Native grasses to sow, garden beds to expand upon, climbing roses to train up the fence and arbor. Rain barrels. And more trees. Slowly, it comes. But right now, there are tufts and tufts of poppies itching to burst into bloom, irises growing so tall and blooming so boldly. Thyme, oregano, and lavender anchoring it all! Sunflowers growing everywhere. Baby fruit trees sprouting their first green leaves. Poulets and hens pecking and scratching and both sets looking so healthy and content. Native perrenials coming back to life after a long winter. Bees arriving next month!!
Ah....I may not live in my daydreams. There is no cabin in the woods. Or English garden. Or log cabin on the prairie. Or woodstove in the winter. There is us. There is our little house. There is our little lawn. Our hands. Some seeds. And a lot of try. To make our days, our place in this world, just a little more beautiful and a little more interesting.