at home is where I wanna be. after a lifetime as a nomad, I could not be more delighted to have landed somewhere that holds me so sweetly, at long last. this morning I planted comfrey and yarrow, lemon balm and mugwort, baby aloes by my front door. and in so doing, I made a promise to be good to this place, to this thirsty earth which surrounds me. I made a promise to tend and to listen, and to sow seeds of beauty and regeneration in this place I now call Home. what a gift it is to steward some small corner of this world, to sing songs to call the Spirits back into the soil and to delight the ground with the kiss of bare feet and lovemaking upon her surface. my wishes for this place are many -- a great big claw foot soaking tub in the yard, dusky wisteria blossoms vining over fences, and psychedelic passionflower too many to count, a few laying hens to help me bring the hard pack soil back to life, a thriving garden of plants both wild and cultivated. but I know that the real work lies in the world that is, largely, unseen. to truly love a place is to give it life. when you walk past certain forest glades, or streams in the wood, you can sense something truly holy emanating from them. human homes, too, can hold these sacred Spirits of goodness, both feral and domestic. may I honor the gift that I have been given, may this home be a place of beauty and of healing, not only for me but for all who pass through it.
photo snapped by Leslie Satterfield during a near-perfect moment
of sweetness and sunshine on the back porch of my dreams
