Life has its ebb and flow, and lately, it has been all ebb. It is a season of change for us gypsies who are always rolling on the breeze. Where is the breeze blowing this time? I wish I knew.
Sometimes I wish I lived in the year this old barn was built - in rolling hills with the fresh scent of pine trees in my nose and the cool trickle of a stream running through the meadow next to the field where my homestead sits.
The donkey in the field happily pulls our plow and the goats in the pen happily give us milk and the chickens in the yard peck and scratch wherever they wish to dig up fat, juicy bugs and worms.
The gardens feed us and the mercantile or trade with the nearest neighbor supplies the needful things we cannot produce. The days are quiet and full of work and family. In the evenings, we sit by the fire or the lamp and tell stories and knit. Mr. Nature plays us a tune on his guitar.
But, then that chain link fence is there to remind me that I do not live in the year that building was built. I do not own my land, and alloidal title no longer exists...if it ever did. The spiraling economy is crushing countries and the promise that so many of us believed about a college degree buying security turns out to be a very cruel joke, indeed.
Aside from the enjoyment of having information at my fingertips and loving the way we can connect with people through the internet, I think modern life has it all wrong. Is it true that the winds of change bring treasures unknown? I am no longer sure about the treasures part...