I love dusk at the farm, I love the way the soft afternoon light hits the old red barn. Red is always around me, waiting patiently, quiet and present. He is like another arm or leg to me, he is a part of me now, always near me, always watching, never causing worry or trouble. I am lucky to have such love from another living thing. There is a lot of love around me at the farm. Maria, of course, the donkeys, now Fate.

She and I connect to the hellion in one another, the mad parts of one another.

Maria was off walking in the woods. I love to walk with her, but I spent several hours mowing the lawn. Florence’s old riding mower finally gave out and I got a push mower that is self-propelled. It took me several  hours but I got most of the yard done, I was tired and sore. There is something quite satisfying, though, about doing that kind of work and finishing it. I sat down in the Adirondack chairs for a few minutes, held my camera, drank from a bottle of cold water.

I got up early this morning – 5 a.m. – to write about the New York Carriage Horses – and then a friend came and we met about the October Open House. Lisa Dingle and I had lunch with Maria and sat and talked.  Earlier, we went to Pompanuck Farm and talked about our hopes to host a day of creative workshops in October for members of the Creative Group At Bedlam Farm. We seem to be reviving our ideas about hosting and sponsoring a bunch of workshops to encourage creative people and remind them that creativity is open to anyone who wishes it, you don’t need anything but your own creative spark.  a It was a good day, a long day.

This is the most peaceful time of day at the farm, I am grateful I came up to the country, bought one farm, then another. Farms are not simple things, not easy things, they are certainly not for everyone. They are for me. Tomorrow, the last day of my short story class, there is no place for us to meet after tomorrow. I think I need to keep teaching, maybe find a place on the farm or some other farm to do it.