back to school/work and today was rather quiet. at home i decided to go looking again for more evidence... and i found some. but first, even though the temp was 37, there was a lot of snow, well over a foot. i couldn't face snow clumps on the kick of my skis, so instead i rambled. i have long legs. someone else rambled today.
this is the porcupine path, a rather interesting highway. i remember when i first learned what this kind of trail meant...i found the end of the trail first, a treed porcupine, and followed it's trail all over my farm. this porcupine keeps a low profile so far, but i'll need to guard it from visiting dogs, one of whom will gladly try to protect us from said porcupine. and get badly hurt for her pains. wendy will ignore it, they're not very good to herd.
grapevine finds it's way all over the barn, and as the barn retreats into the earth, i morn for what it once was for me, and for my children.
time to find a new direction, an exit from what was into what will be. to not leave luck behind, but to remember the luck that once was, is no longer in this place. letting go.
new is for me a threat, a challenge, a letting go. i must be mindful that it is inevitable. and correct. below is the northwest corner of my last mare mist's stall. the worst weather hit here.
and yet today, this is the driest, strongest part of the structure. there are still shavings left on the floor. and a few porcupine quills, scattered, a bit that is left from the emaciated carcass that i found here last fall.i have work to do tonight, but i am tired. another change, from break to work, and sleep-meager nights leave me oddly out of sorts, legs jumpy. i'll see if i can solve the cover problem on the new book. maybe i'll take a hot shower first, and see if i can clear my head.
such a familiar mood here.
ReplyDeleteinteresting to walk "through" the snow. great path.
"A letting go... inevitable and correct." Your words echo my thoughts, as I said good bye to my lovely mother-in-law on my blog tonight. As usual, beautiful pictures and narrative.
ReplyDeletea path, a challenge,letting go, life in general.
ReplyDeleteI read this post last night...and got such a feeling of sadness that I couldn't comment. Letting go is the hardest thing we do as humans.
ReplyDeleteas the barn really deteriorates, i realize that there's no future in it. that's been tough, but it's really ok. i just have to adjust.
ReplyDeleteVelma, I read through your February posts as I have not visited for a while, and was so moved by most everything you have said.
ReplyDeleteI think that showing your readers where you live and what winter is like along with your wonderful work gives such honest dimension and I thank you for that.
oh my, that is what i'm trying to do. thank you.
ReplyDeletehope your shower cleared your head. your blog continues as a bright spot in my reading, partly because of your willingness to be real and the maturity of your observations. thank you.
ReplyDelete