Surely change is upon us. Not since the sixties, has Uranus, Neptune and Pluto transited the Earth together. We remember the revolutionary changes that took place then, well, some of us do. Or if that explanation is too much of a stretch, simply look at the changes in our world over the past few years. However we make meaning of that is fine.
I don’t know about you, but I feel the reverberation of those changes strongly in my little world right now. Sweet Windward Farm, home of our dreams, up to now that is, has been set free to nurture and teach another family the joys of rural life, of living in direct connection to the land and its seasons. We are still working hard to starch her party dress and send her off in all her finery and hoping she will bring us a good return for all our efforts. She will help to write our ticket for the next stop on the train.
I’m open to asking for help from all corners, so I hung my dear friend Suellen’s HOME milagro which she created over my little carving of St. Francis.
It never hurts to ask for help, right? The Farmer’s Almanac was also a source I turned to for advice. There actually were a few days in April that were “Best days for selling or advertising”. I liked the 27th of April, with the sun in Taurus, a good sign for the home, and the moon in Aries, a powerful mover and shaker with Mars as its ruler.
The day didn’t have the celebratory feel we were expecting in spite of starting it off with our favorite Moody’s diner breakfast and the first of the season trip to Beth’s Farmer’s Market. Our spirits had a heavy quietness which refused to respond to what usually lifts them. Digging into the earth usually works where all else fails, so I planted the onions and leeks I ordered. There’s something really ironic about setting in root crops on the day you put your house out into the world, don’t you think?
The green shoots are garlic from last November, but to the left and right are the onion sets and leeks that I planted. I also checked on the sweet peas that are just poking their little green heads up and headed over to see how the rhubarb patch coming along.
I walked back across the street, enjoying the clean white line of the fence that I recently painted and wondered why I waited so long to spruce it up.
I can’t help but feel like I did as a mom, when my daughters dressed for their prom. How I fussed about them, pressing their dresses, fixing their hair, and watching them stride away from me on the arm of the freshly scrubbed boys who haltingly walked them to their cars. Happy on one hand to see them take these first steps into their newly polished futures, and sad to see them leaving the nest that cradled them. So, too, do I send this home into which we poured so much of our collective lives out into another’s future. I try not to feel sad. Instead, I focus on the adventure that lies ahead, that is waiting for us as yet unseen. Fortunately, the wisdom of age comforts me in knowing that what is ahead is good….really good. I’ve jumped before and have never been disappointed. That is the reward for stepping off the cliff and trusting the landing to be delicious.
With a prayer of thanks for all the joys this home has offered. I know the next step is waiting in the wings.