Homecoming

so, go figure. i'm ecstatic in the wonder of all this: new people, places, possibilities....

today, i walked down my road to a dirt road that took me westward across the mesa and to a small lake that sits beneath the la plata mountains. i could see the fish swimming beneath the surface, and ran my hands through the mullein and milkweed and cottontails as i walked the narrow path of its banks. i'd just spent the morning re-arranging the kitchen (now we have a compost bucket, and all the grains in mason jars on the blue shelves above the baskets of bounty from the garden out back: pumpkins, squash, peppers, cucumbers, tomatoes, and batchelor buttons) and walking around the property, discovering a chicken coop, a greenhouse, and cinder blocks that will eventually find their way into the back of my rear-wheel drive truck. speaking of sheila, she's now a lightweight cavern, emptied of all my belongings, save the altar on my dashboard which hosts a mandala, a few prisms, some sage and dried flowers, and a colorful assortment of olive pits. we drove together across the nameless county roads on Florida Mesa, stopping every once in a while to talk to the cows and horses, and also to watch the new double-wide get crane-lifted on to a lot a few miles away from our new home.

last night, i delved into the harvest of local crops and made pumpkin soup and apple pies while swapping stories with one of my new housemates, experiencing that odd sensation of excitement and alarm when you discover that, despite the ease of being with new people, they don't know anything about you, and you don't know anything about them, even though the comfort of old friendship flows through.

there is something old in this place for me, however. the connections here run deep...so far i've one degree of separation from more than half the people i've met, and a common set of goals and values with nearly everyone. and i've failed to mention the elation that this land brings my soul: under this sky, alongside this river, beneath these mountains, i have a new power, something buzzing in my skin, a sense that i'm closer to God, transcendence or something boundless like that. call me crazy. i'll take it.

ah, the joys of moving...i wonder if there's more of a homecoming for me in the exploration of the unknown than there is in actually returning to what i know...