The day unfurls with the evidence of wild fire smoke, part of the reality of life here, at the moment. We are camped on the flatland on a very hilly spot in the Maxwelton Valley on Whidbey Island on occupied Coast Salish People's land.
We are visitors, welcomed by a woman friend with a very very intimate connection to goats. She herself a Capricorn. I woke to make an early breakfast in our newly pinned kitchen under the real life Safety Pin Cafe's awning. In my black rubber suppas, while onions sizzled I look east to hear my neighbor Jude talking with the goats. "Get back," she was coming through the gate. It might be feeding, or milking time. We have yet to understand the schedule of this working farm.
"Good morning, Jude," I said while stirring onions.
"Happy Anniversary," my friend said.
After a delicious anniversary omelet breakfast, which we ate in the car, I climbed the newly assembled steps to be in the vardo. Pete was outside when I heard him say, "Jude's out here."
She had baked the first apple pie of the year, and it was still warm. The company of welcoming friends and the close connection with the winds which stir the fingers of the sky-reaching bamboo, damp grass at the bottom of the hill, the sound of Flickers, Ravens, goats and chicken, and the silence swoop of Owl above your head. All these make the journey interwoven. The technological wizardry of cybernetics make this story possible; I cannot pretend to understand how it works, but am glad for it while conscious of its price.
Like a karma sandwich, it is story that holds us together, and stories that include human and non-human company that feeds heart, soul and head. We are truly blessed, humbled often, and are grateful! I mean the first apple pie of the year for an anniversary present. 💙💚💛💜
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