So we had our last wonderful, vividly beautiful hike up to Indian Lake. I went to the farmers market and purchased chard ( icky, even though Sally, the farmer, said it was wonderful) , lettuce, garlic, and really WANTED to purchase some tarts. Boy did they looks luscious! I spent what felt like 24 hours getting the house ready for hibernation; serious cleaning, mopping, leak detecting, glass sweeping up, stain removing, wishing stains were being removed, unclogging drains, printing emails for my good friend and neighbor Rey.....generally reluctantly getting ready to leave. Alas. I did not want to leave, EVER. Even as I hear on talk radio( announced by the woman who built our house, Nancy Stapp) that roving gangster bandits have been holding up people in their houses in the area west of the Rio Grande bridge....I am non plussed. I don't care. I love it here. I love hearing the cows mooing as I awaken at 2 am, I love the river as a constant background to my sometimes anxious thoughts. I love the fierce possessiveness of those who grew up here without plumbing or electricity. I love the summer long landscape of daises and sunflowers and wild roses, which change ever so slightly as June turns to July to August. I love the tips of the apricot tree leaves that have an red orange waxy glow. I love the sounds of the plows baling hay, very late in the season because it's been a rainy spring. I love the magpies, the ravens, and the hawks that partake of the generous bounty of chokecherries, raspberries and currants, and the fearless rabbits that run down our driveway, growing bigger by the day, unaware of Walter and Ike's enthusiasm for rabbit on the hoof. It tears my heart to leave a place so beautiful and serene. I am happy here unlike any place I have ever lived. I ache to see the leaves turn in fall and await the first snow. In time, in time, this place will be ours to embrace throughout the seasons like the birds that take over the perennial nests of the barn swallows. We have nested in this wild and craggy nest, and it feels more like home that my actual endured time home does. It is majestic and wild and scary and untouchable. It is free and crazy and real and harsh, and I don't want to leave.
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