I finally feel ready to write about the last six weeks, YIKES! is that ALL it’s been? Change can be so disorienting that weeks feel like lifetimes, which is true for me right now. I feel Dorothy and I have shared a tornado experience. For right now, I will let a bunch of pictures tell the outside story which could be titled ‘Lots of Lasts’
…a last canoe ride on the lake
…dining room finale. Always a great way to start the day with the welcoming sun streaming in from the east.
We pulled together some camping gear so we could share our last meal in the house. Just happened to be the first night of Rosh Hashana, new moon, new year, new beginning.
Would you have ever believed we could peel ourselves and all of our stuff out of this well lived and loved in room? This was the heart of our home and I have mixed feelings seeing it so empty. I like to think that she’s all spanking clean, waiting for new stories to come through and bring life to the space. Ours, we will take with us, as I hope you will too. We will hold fast to the times we have shared together in front of the wood stove , piled on the couch or sprawled out on the floor.
One last trip out to the garden to gather the harvest. Certainly not the bounty of previous seasons, but it was simple and about all I could handle.
a wave to the farm…
and one last look at the barn.
This ties up Part One of I don’t know how many more parts to come in chronicling this adventure. I remember feeling genuinely excited and completely at peace with leaving. The most helpful notion was being able to take a long distance sighting of the whole process. When I could do that, seeing our time at this house as a magical phrase in a story begun long before we were even born, I could take comfort in knowing that the story will continue, written by other lives lived there. It reminds me that we just visit here, we own nothing, and impermanence is our address.