The ebb and flow of our days changes at a whim these days. Our rhythm shifts with the home we live in, our days are filled with the rhythm of someone elses life. With no fixed address we find that we adopt other peoples routines, sometimes consciously, sometimes not. We have just shifted again, from the farm that was our home for three beautifully, free and fresh air filled weeks to a little light filled home around the corner from where we used to live.
When we walk the streets in the late afternoon, baskets in hand, we are treasure hunting. We are gathering grass and nuts and flowers to take home and count and make pictures with… there is so much that is familiar here, the streets that we walk are the same. We stop by the same overhanging lemon tree and we gather flowers from a familiar spot under a willow tree. We know these streets. We recognise faces and we wave to passing cars. We have swapped the life of orchards and flocks of geese for a life that looks a little like our old one did. We sit at a large wooden table in the afternoon sun and drink tea like we have many times before surrounded by the people who live here when they aren’t exploring far off lands…
We are walking in the shoes of a very special new friend of mine, living for a month in her pretty little solar powered cottage in the suburbs. This little place is filled with the heart and light that comes from the three beautiful little souls, who were born within its walls.
I’m finding myself in the middle of this project, both literally and figuratively. Sitting somewhat comfortably in the unknowingness of it all… I’m learning to find a balance between my unfettered desire to disappear into the abyss of the great unknown and my responsibilities to create a safe and secure life for the tiny human that stands by my side every day. I’m reading again, for the first time in many years… and it’s spectacular.
We are finding our home in the spaces between what I imagined our life to be and what it had become… It’s good here.