Following a week on the road the bus brings us back to the farm. Ths 300 acre Twitchell Farm is my opportunity to discover that something serene exists in the world beyond the chaos.
For the first few days I wander. I hike the land until tired and then find a tree to lean against. I sit for hours watching whatever happens by...a snail, spider, butterfly, rabbit, hawk or doe.
Morning and evening are linked by my work of collecting a portion of the eggs laid by a flock of 1500 Rhode Island Reds.
Days flow with a nourishing rhythm.
This is an artist's memoir chapter 2
The graphic's done using Sumo
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Wonderful story, Donna. You have a way of writing so that the reader feels what you were feeling. I can identify with the character- you- as if I were there. that's a rare gift.
ReplyDeletethank you so much Sharmon.
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