Our Latest Visit

Yesterday, we packed up the van and the trailer and headed over to the land to drop off some materials we have into the shipping container. Initially, we were going to spend the night over, trying to get some work done on the shabin but it didn't work out.

The drive up got delayed a lot mainly because the things getting packed up were so builky and Rob was doing all the work himself while I was inside getting all the kids ready. Then, we had to drop Leeloo off at the dog-hotel. She needed a bath and we wern't going to be home until really late. She's not puppy trained enough to be home by herself and the van was just too ful and the ride too long to take a puppy along. Soon, she'll be going up with us. She needs to learn better manners first though.

When we finally pulled up to the land and were greated with a vibrant sea of green almost taller than the car.

July and August are the wettest months of the year here and the land responds accordingly. We drove through the soft fronds up to the doors of the shabin and container. Rob jumped out to unlock it and found someone had cut the locks we put on it. Both of them. I just don't understand people. Thankfully, at that point we didn't have anything in it at all. But it still saddens my heart that someone would do that. They had to have come once, saw the locks and then come back with the bolt cutters. It makes me leery to put anything up there that we couldn't afford to loose. Makes me nervous about staying overnight. I don't want to be afraid to be on my own land. I don't want to be scared to be out of the city and blanketed in the darkness of rurual life.

I tried to push it out of my mind and enjoy the little bit of time we had. My land soothes me. Makes me want to slow down and just be. I need that. The kids loved it even with the grass double their height.

They played in the shabin and stayed out of trouble. Granted if they had run through the fronds we'd have probably lost them for a bit, but I thnk even Max understood that out the rustic-but-still-civilized door there was wildness. With the locks cut we had to run to Lowes to pick up some more resistant ones. Even though there's not much where we are, their are still shops within about a half hour drive.

We came back with batteries for the LED lanterns and the locks and set about finishing up the last of what we wanted to do, which wasn't really much. The kids had a picnic on some blankets while they waited.

When we were getting ready to go, I spied a hawk perched on the top most branch of a tree in our bit of forest. He was watching, standing sentinel, while the wind gusted around him.

A few moments later two of his brothers glided by as if on patrol. It was so amazing to see these birds of prey living on our bit of Earth. To know that we are stewards of their home and they rely on us to protect them, even if they don't know it.

The sun was setting on our trip to the land. Even with the sky washed in the gray of storm clouds from the East, the West still glowed with the remnants of the day. To spend that time there, even when we couldn't do anything, was special.

As we packed up Amelia, our three year old, said "I want to live here forever." Me too, Emmy, me too.