Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Each year we try to take a few weeks off between the cold, quiet months of winter and the start of the spring growing season. Each year we try to go somewhere far away from our farm. To have a proper break from the everyday chores, the ever growing to-do lists, the routines and the expectations.
The further we go, the more perspective we can get on things back home. The more the landscape changes, the more the flora and fauna and day to day life differ, the more we can really see our lives on the farm. And the longer we are away, the more decisions and changes and plans we can make and put in place.
It's amazing what early morning walks on the beach, tropical fruit breakfasts, sea breezes, slow uninterrupted chunks of time, clear blue skies, the sound of the waves, bare feet, afternoon siestas, and beach salty skin can do to refresh and revive our visions.
We've done our seed order, I've read Looking for Alaska and Crazy Rich Asians, Farmer Bren has been doing an online ukulele course and has spent hours perfecting his strum and accompanying Indi's singing.
I've cast off another pair of socks, I've walked/jogged 7,000 steps before breakfast, we've spent a good chunk of time with family and bumped into friends and we've hardly ever driven anywhere, which is always the best sign of a holiday for me.
(Jazzy's socks ravelled here).
We've eaten too much, we've thought more about next year's adventure, we've swum, we've been constantly amazed by the crazy beautiful tropical wild and bird life, and we've talked about life at home on our farm. We've felt alive and exhilarated and refreshed.
We've breathed in enormous gulps of holiday air and we've felt grateful beyond measure.
And in the weeks and months to come when life builds up and speeds up and piles up, we'll have these few weeks away to remember and ground us. Hopefully we'll be able to hold on to and recall the pillowy feeling of the the warm wind as it swirls around us, the fizzy tingle of the waves that have just crashed over us and the sweetest tastes of pineapple and passion fruit and strawberries in our mouths.
I wonder if you have a warm and sweet place to go to in your heart when things get too crazy on the ground? I wonder if yours is tropical and laid back like mine, or in the middle of the hustle and bustle somewhere exotic? I wonder what bird songs you can hear, what the market food tastes like and how tall the mountains on the range are?
I hope you can go there.