When I wake up in the morning in my new house, this is what I will see!! I can’t wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is actually my front yard, believe it or not. The back yard has a more manicured look. I love how the front yard is so natural, so wild.
Below is a photo of another part of the front yard – it’s off to the right of the view from the master bedroom window. There’s a lovely little flat-topped stone that you can see in the photo that I look forward to sitting on to meditate.
I spent a lot of time up in Bedford today – which is where the new casa is. And if it is possible to be in love with a place, then I am, indeed, in love. It’s like New England, without the bother of driving up past New York. Well, actually, you do drive through a teeny little corner of Connecticut to get there – the “back-country” area of Greenwich (that’s what it’s known as, although I don’t know why), but only for like about a minute before you come back into Northern Westchester.
When you drive down the long and windy country roads, you see odd little signs like, “Welcome to Middle Patent” even though there’s no such place, well, not now anyway. A couple of miles down the road from the casa is a centuries old cemetary, with crumbling headstones and a sign that says something like “Established 1743, Banksville, New York”, even though it sits in a place that is no longer Banksville. Banksville, itself, on the northern border of Greenwich, Conneticut looks like it was plucked out of 1963 and plopped on a country highway. There’s a country store that is open only from breakfast until about 3 in the afternoon. I found an article in the New York Times from 1993 that says of Banksville: “[T]he Uptown Deli and Finch’s serve breakfast and lunch to people who work on the estates, and an IGA market, dry cleaner, pharmacy and hardware store are patronized by area residents.” And what’s kind of odd and spooky and exciting all at the same time is that all of those places are still there, AND there’s NOTHING else there. Of course, that was, what, 14 years ago? It will be really interesting to see if everything that’s there right now is still there in another 14 years.
I don’t feel as if I can accurately convey the historic gorgeousness of this place (not my house, which is only 10 years old, but the town and it’s component hamlets) here in my writing. It’s the age old dilemna of authors – how to use words (music/art/etc.) to reproduce the “thing”. It’s an impossible task, although some are better at it than others (and most are better at it than me, apparently, from this post at least).
Maybe I am in such a good mood because practice today was sooooo delicious. The sweat poured off me in sheets, and it felt so cleansing. Every posture felt “unlocked” today. Of course I savored it, because that doesn’t happen so often. Supta K is still stumbling along. There is no answer, try as I might to find one. I need to stop trying to find one. One day it will be a lot easier for me than it is today. I think. I hope. It would be nice….