“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life.”  – Mary Oliver, Summer Day.

This is what Maria and I ask ourselves every single day. What do we plan to do with our one wild and precious life? She has plenty of answers. So do I. We plan to live it, no matter what.

I was in my office working.

Maria was outside with Fate, her faithful companion. Zinnia was sleeping at my feet as usual. I thought I heard a song from behind the house where the woodshed was. I thought I listened to the thumping of wood being tossed.

I figured Maria was out there finishing the stacking (she is very proud of her stacking, especially her corners,  there are never any topples or collapses).

She likes to do it alone and has resisted any offers of help from me or anyone outside. She’s been stacking wood all summer. She loves every minute of it. That was hard for me to believe at first. I believe it now.

It was Mark  Twain said, “Find a job you enjoy doing, and you will never have to work a day in your life.” If you love your life, I would add, you never have to regret a day of it.

I went outside and had this idea for a Willa Cather picture of my Willa Cather Woman, as I call her. When I got close, I repeatedly heard the song “I Get To Live My Life” as she tossed and then piled up the wood. It wasn’t from an album. It was Maria’s song; she conjured it up.

I was going for a Grant Wood “American Gothic” photo (below), but that wouldn’t work, I realized. Maria is not as severe as the woman in that photo, and I didn’t belong in it because I stacked very little of the wood.  And even on my worst days, I’m just not that gothic or grim.

I decided to let Maria be Maria, and her pride and love of life shone through.

Fate was a good substitute for the severe farmer.

 

 

That was a meaningful moment; I wanted to capture it in a photograph.

Maria never poses for me, and I never ask her to. I prefer spontaneous portraits.

But I asked this time, and she understood what I wanted to do and agreed, with a smile on her face. Creative courtesy.

She was out by the wood pile, looking happy with herself.

She had just stacked the last log and looked happy and proud.

Maria does what I call loving work; she loves her art and the farm’s physical tasks – wood stacking, gardening, shoveling manure and feeding the animals, hauling off falling limbs,  making repairs, and putting in storm windows.

I help whenever I can, there is always something I can do that needs to be done. But not as much as I used to. I’m not certain I could be on the farm if Maria wasn’t here.

If there is a code that binds Maria and me as much or more than any other, it is this idea of living our lives.

We aren’t as secure or forward-looking as we are told we should be, but we love our lives, and we often remind one another that this is the life we chose and this is the life we love. Like everyone else, we worry and doubt ourselves, but we almost return to it: we get to live our lives, not anyone else’s.

People often message me to say we have a perfect life and are very lucky. I don’t believe in luck; we both have worked hard in our lives, taken all kinds of risks, made all kinds of mistakes, and struggled with all sorts of problems. But we wanted this life, and we have it and love it.

Luck didn’t do that. Blood and sweat, and determination did that.

I understood why Maria sang that song, how far she had come, how strong she was, and how brave she was. It was music to my ears. After the stacking, she picked up every chip and possible piece of kindling and put them in a big can for the winter.

 

This photo also captures her in her $8 dollar red boots from Paris. We love our farm and our animals,  but it is hard work, continuous, physical, relentless, and increasingly expensive.

At some point, these are things we will have to confront and consider.

But not now, not yet. We love our lives; we are living our lives. We give thanks for our lives every day, as I also give thanks for the presence of Maria in my life.

She has saved me in many ways, and I love her daily.

I never thought to sing it, but it was beautiful to hear.

As importantly, I respect and admire her more every single day. I’m glad I got the picture; it’s iconic, at least to me.