The importance of having a home, a harbor attached to the shore, is exaggerated when leaving that home for a week. I am a hopeless homebody. Everything I might need in one day is usually right in front of me, or on the back 10. How fortunate for me. We took a week to visit family in Minneapolis, leaving our farm in the trusted care of an experienced farm person who stayed and cared for all the animals and house. The days of putting one or two dogs at the kennel and locking the door, and stopping the paper delivery seem so easy, are easy. The trip was worth the effort for many reasons, but landing back on Oregon ground, seeing the sights that have become my new home, were welcome.
The importance of leaving once in awhile is to remind me that I am not the creator of all of this. I am just a trusted steward. The animals do live without me. The fences stand up just as they did when I left. The fog was here to greet us. I used to think that if I focused hard enough while sitting in the plane as it took off - repeating over and over in my head and heart - "Please get us all their safely, please bring me home safely, all these people on this plane have friends, family, pets that need them - please get the plane off the ground" - I used to believe I actually mattered to the plane getting up off the ground. This may sound ridiculous and egotistical, but it was also a burden. Perhaps another beauty of leaving the over self absorbed younger adult years, is to understand one doesn't hold the power to get the plane off the ground, but when one arrives at the destination safely, one has the power to relish it, cherish it as a gift - then take that gift and do something powerful with it.
And so I returned home, full of that gift. And while the animals all survived just fine without me, there was a difference to their step as I greeted them for morning feedings. The donkeys walked closer to the gate to greet me rather than standing back at their barn door. Frankie waddled all the way in a mist to greet me even though she hates rain. I am convinced they missed me. But more important, the gift of travel allowed me to acknowledge how welcome their faces were for me, and my day.
Our farm sitter had cut fresh eucalyptus branches for our house, and had the fire going. This morning I was greeted with our first green egg from one of our young hens - her first, and our first green egg. I praised her profusely.
