Four more tulips have popped up on the site of Florence’s old garden, right in the middle of what is now a lawn. Trying to figure out what to do with them – leave them alone, move them to one of the newer gardens. They are telling us something.
An old and valued friend and symbol has come home. Our mysterious statue from Bedlam Farm was brought her today by our friend Ben Osterhaudt. It took three men to bring it to it’s spot by the old Big Barn at Bedlam Farm, and Ben hauled this one over by himself. He is a gentle giant. We aren’t sure what the statue is – maybe St. Theresa, the saint of flowers, we like that idea. It was found in two different pieces near an old and abandoned monastery and perhaps one day the head will turn up. It bothered me that it wasn’t here and Ben very generously offered to bring it. He is a great friend. I’ll put up a photo of its final resting place here later tonight.
We’re putting it in my Dahlia garden, Florence’s old garden.
I miss the path at Bedlam Farm, what a gift to walk your dogs on a mile-long path on our own land. But life is full of paths, and we have found several very beautiful ones right near our new home. Our neighbor invited us to walk on his beautiful paths through the deep woods and we love this path. I have three spirit dogs now, dogs that enter your life change it and mark the passages of time. Frieda helped bring me Maria, Lenore kept love alive for me, and Red is taking me to the next place in my life, not yet revealed. Paths are where you find them, you can find your center anywhere.
The chickens have their own morning song, industrious clucking and purpose. They do not wander back in their minds to regret their past, nor do they leap ahead to worry about their future. They do not think of money or death, or envy or anger. They get moving, they do not go on social media compulsively or listen to bad news all day and think it is the true story of the world. They do not go to Storm Center to fuss about the coming storms or worry about the many things that seek to eat them. They head out looking for seeds, bugs, worms and the occasional human garbage they are given or run across. Their morning song is about focus and purpose.
In the morning, Simon sings a morning song to Fanny, sometimes Lulu. He reminds me to sing my own morning song, to embrace the day, think of all the things I love in life. For all the distractions, challenges and disappointments of life, I have all of the gifts the world can offer me, and I sing my morning song of affirmation every morning. Counting my blessings used to seem like a cliche to me, but more and more, I am grateful for what I have in my life, not thinking of what I don’t. I sing to my own lover, to the world, to my farm and my friends and the animals who live here. Life is a crisis, life is a mystery, life is so good.
