To milk the goats, we remove our skivvies to ford the path to the goat yard.
The water rises and I swell with excitement. Amidst the danger and ‘inconvenience’ (read ‘adventure’), I am filled with gratitude for the opportunity to dwell on such an active river. To live amongst such rapid hydrologic change, where before my eyes boulders and towering trees are swept from their centuries old pedestals to dance a few steps before finding a new throne down river.
The flow, the change is more than a metaphor to me– it’s how I want to live my life. Active, engaged, tumbling recklessly with a precision that comes from a life of full integrity. Unafraid to hold fast, unafraid to let go.
The fungi we live amongst offer endless foraging excitement.
We often quote the phrase, “Don’t do anything that isn’t play.” I think we are all enjoying ourselves here.
Cobbing the ‘Wicker House’. Feet and hands full of clay and sand, hearts full of warmth and community.