I believe that if I keep seeking the light, my life and I will become more and more radiant. I think this is true. The light is a matter of compassion and the heart, I look for it every day.

I also am a strong believer in change, rebirth, and renewal. I work hard to stay open, to embrace productive change, and give birth and rebirth to myself again and again.

I need a lot of work, I can’t get sleepy or still, or my soul will fade away.

That is how I feel about our farm. It’s an important time for Bedlam Farm, there is always rebirth and renewal here.

When we first moved here the old farmhouse looked a bit bare and exposed. We planted a score of trees of different kinds all around the house, and they are growing up and taking form, giving the house shade, privacy, and a sense of being embraced by the natural world, as farmhouses often are.

We have also decided to let the front lawn grow naturally, as in a hayfield, graced by wildflowers, bird nests, bugs, and bees.

More and more, I am coming around to nature, trying to meet my responsibilities to the earth. This is, of course, something Maria and I share.

Mowed lawns don’t really make sense to me, they look and feel harsh, and they are not good for birds,  wildlife, or the environment.

I find natural grass much more attractive.

We’re doing this on one half of the lawn,  the big half, not the other.

Tomorrow, the solar energy crew is coming to install the solar panels in the South pasture. After that, 80 percent of our electricity needs and costs will be met by the panels, and with tax subsidies, it will pay for itself every month.

Tomorrow afternoon, one of our sacred rituals, Liz Lewis is coming from Vermont to share our sheep. More wool for us to take the knitting mill, more yarn for Maria to sell.

The shearing ritual is beautiful and meaningful. It makes living in the country and continuing this wonderful ritual very real.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow. The farm is like a mother to me, as is the earth, and it is always a place of rebirth and renewal.

And I love having Zinnia as my dog. She simply slips into my life, she is easy, sweet and affectionate. Like all great dogs, she knows my mind better than I do.

I find myself telling her things she could not possibly understand, yet she does. This morning, I said “let’s go out front and take a picture of the tall grass,” and I went outside and she followed me and wandered out onto the grass and lay down, waiting for me to take a picture

I never said a word to her or gave her a single command. When I was done, we both walked back to the farmhouse together, came in, silently,  and went to my study. She is sleeping next to me now.

Given a chance, dogs will become what we need.