Two weeks ago we drove down Bear Mountain for the last time. Leaving behind the small herd of goats we’d grown so attached to, leaving behind the pig, Jelly Bean and the Red Ranger chickens that would be slaughtered the following Saturday, we felt the sadness of the end of summer camp and feelings of bereavement. A few days prior in the early morning, I had witnessed a kitten sleeping on top of George the donkey. The magic had peaked I suppose.
While it was time to go, leaving behind the people that welcomed us in with such open arms was sweet and sad and on that last drive down the bumpy dirt road, we knew that we would always have a home at the farm.
But we knew this wasn’t our farm, this was not our specific future and after a somewhat accidental three month stay on the mountain, it was time to pack the car again. Time to make some plans and feel the momentum of decision making and setting foundations.
And so we drove. Traveling with glass jars of organic raw goat milk kefir, made from the goats milk we gathered on our last morning on the farm, plus a bounty of fresh vegetables and canned goods from our own labor, we went south to Connecticut to stay with family. We left the car for a few days while we explored the streets of New York City and Brooklyn. We succeeded in shocking our systems after living in small town New Hampshire and felt revitalized by the variety of cultures and viewpoints in the city. Next up was an exploration of the Hudson Valley and then on to Chicago.
Sprawling suburbs behind, we ventured west through Minnesota and found ourselves here, sitting in the upstairs converted loft of an old creamery in Fertile, Iowa. Creative people are everywhere and the home we found through airbnb is just an example of a little view into the world that someone has created. There is a giant white cat downstairs playing with a tiny mouse, there are books everywhere and before we get in the car again today, we found a little peace in the cornfields where we were able to finally pause for a moment.