There's a certain pull on this spot of our land, and a certain welcoming. It's up on Donkey Hill, under the old Oak. I love to stroll up there with the donkeys, enjoy the view of our lower fields and barnyard. Early spring brings the silence of the fog, and summer brings the sound of far off tractors. All around me are rose hips.
I thought about how I arrived here as an unknown to the state and the rural county. We knew nobody. But this one section of land just welcomed me that first day we looked at the property. I like to think it was a personal greeting specifically to me. I enjoyed all the houses I'd lived in, fixed up and nested in over the years, but there was always a distant horizon I sought - an innate sense that, once again, the current house I was in just wasn't 'it'.
This small piece of our property reminds me in a very physical way, I am standing on 'it'.
