Knowing What You Want and Why I Respect Farmers
I want morning mist. I want the sun filtering through the trees. I want fresh eggs from my chickens out back. I want to have to do the morning chores before breakfast. I want to work in the dirt and earth. I want to jar the leftovers that aren’t eaten or sold at market. I want goats and goat milk and goat cheese. I want to have a desk that is only for writing. I want to have a window that looks out into the fields, over to the mountains, or down into the valley. I want to visit the same bank on the same river or the same grove in the roots of the same tree over and over until I have the spot memorized. I want to live by the seasons. I want to have to prepare for winter. I want to pray for spring. I want to play all summer. I want to work throughout the fall. I want to rely on the land. I want to create and build and subsist on a much of my own makings as possible. I want to gather as much as Mother Nature will create or build for me in the wild. I want to scrape by just above hungry, just above cold, far above content, far above happy. I want to return to the earth, live on her time and poke away at letter keys to describe it all.