Home within range
There are times when the world moves too fast. When you wished simply for time to stop. When the act of brushing your teeth for the recommended 3 minutes sounds like a luxury.
There are times when growing old happens before you know it. When you find another gray hair. When the thought of not being out, about and entertaining would be like a warm bath for your soul.
But this is not one of those times.
This is a time of stillness. Of deep thought and long contemplation. A time to watch the leaves fall and gather and the winds pick up and the dust settle and the rains fall. A place to listen to the still hot rains on the roof, the scampering feet at your window and the howl of the old dogs at night.
The food tastes better here. The air smells better too. Sweet pine. The yeasty smell of fresh bread. Wet leaves rotting where they lie.
Here small things matter more. The movements of everyday life are rituals. The morning’s tea. The preparation of sandwiches for lunch. The walk down the small well trodden animal track to the river. All these things which …