Coming back. Coming back, after a week in the woods-- a simple distillation of life into basic tasks, immediate surroundings, present sensations-- was originally difficult. I covered for Ted on Saturday and over the weekend for irrigation, and I wasn't ready to dive back in. I hadn't slept well yet, I wasn't used to the sunshine and heat, and my mind was still far away, dreaming of a future in which I can awake to birdsong and meadows rather than trainsong and city streets. Coming back, until I could resettle quietly into my home and routine, felt like a burden.
There's still- always- so much to do.Read More