Back from a fabulous weekend with my writing buddies with my head spinning full of ideas. Chickollage will be much more than first envisioned.
And we have settled into the new house - well almost! There are still quite a few boxes to be unpacked, my scanner to be excavated, my USB cable for the digital camera to be discovered. I guess it is like being on an archaeological dig, sifting through centuries of time for hidden treasure.
We picked the right day to move. It has rained almost constantly since...hence the boxes that remain untouched in the shed. And I’m working more hours in response to the cyclone that ravaged the north end of our country. Home is not quite home yet. To date it is still just a place to eat and sleep. Oh but what sleep! It is of different quality to the suburban slumber interrupted by the sounds of trucks and cars at all hours. Here we converse with the crickets and the birds greet us with squawks and laughs but the deep long hours of the night are peaceful and dark.
The time it takes me to travel to or from work now is full of wonder. This morning, the hills were smothered in fog, tonight I watched a glorious sunset and lamented that I did not have my camera with me. The countryside is so beautiful, I’d rather travel the curving backroad than the exhaust choked highway any day.
Telling Myself the Story
4 hours ago