Tuesday, June 28, 2011

A Home in The Woods

I've been living and working in Truckee, Monday through Thursday, for almost a month now. I rent a room in a house with two middle aged folks, whom I rarely see. I spend approximately 5 hours a day awake and in the house. That includes time I spend preparing food, doing dishes, showering and preparing for 10 hour days in the field. I have realized that all of the things that I require while I am here, I can get for free, or close to it. The weather is warm and mild, there is a refrigerator, kitchen and a shower at the office that I am free to use. There are many thousands of acres of soft duff upon which to lay my head each night. As of July, my roommates will be the sweetly scented Jeffery Pines, the gently singing Aspens, the Mule's Ears and the Yarrow.

My alarm will be the sunrise and all the songbird cries. I've got a classic green Coleman double burner stove, and so many recipes stored in my head of single pot meals. I've got a leather bound journal that has been patiently waiting for me to transform it into more than just a journal; I will write and sketch and draw and paint and sing and find the forest flowing in my veins and out my pores onto pages patient and pure. I'd much rather live in the woods alone, than with near strangers in this contrived home. And at the end of the week, I will climb the great granite spine of the Sierra and descend the forested slopes to my home in the hills, to my lover, the garden and the orchard and the ducks and the chickens. I will harvest basil and cherries, tomatoes and eggplant and fresh food grown from the good sweet earth. I will finally be at home in the woods.

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