Good morning from Simon, who has lost his early Spring fresh grass pot belly and is looking like a mighty fine donkey. I gave him a great big kiss on his soft nose this morning.  He snorted at me, his way of loving. It is curious, but I feel lately like my farm is dancing with me, a way of saying good bye. Bedlam Farm has never seemed more magical to me, the pastures green, lush, each sunrise a painting, the photos vivid and evocative, my  beautiful wife radiant making her quilts, talking to her donkeys, lighting up my life. The red barns look dignified, comfortable with themselves, the chickens moving industriously around the farmhouse, and there are now sheep grazing everywhere. Even the foxes are respecting this tranquility and beauty.

My new work with Red has made the farm seem even richer, brought me back into its gracious womb. Since we lowered the price, it seems we are closer to selling the farm, closer to leaving. I am in a flow, it is good. What if my life were perfect, all of it, leading right up to now. I’ve never had less money or more wealth. In the morning, I close my eyes, take the dogs on the path, and I feel the embrace of my farm, I close my eyes and I am in a slow dance, our arms around one another, feeling one another so close, swaying back and forth.

I do love you, the farm whispers to me. I thank you for saving me, for bringing me back to life. And I whisper back, I thank you for saving me, for bringing me back to life.