Description: blog. photography. life. farming. harvest on the road.
Sometimes I think I’m meant to be alone, living in a place like this.
The weather can be my right hand for the storms raging in my mind. Book shelves line the walls, full of weathered bindings, thick with the scent of dust and forgotten knowledge. Carefully thought and placed curiosities barter for room along with the stray unique haphazard find.
It is not completely off the grid, but just enough so when I want it to be. Flowers and gardens when the weather is nice. Rain boots on the covered porch. An old rocking chair creaking with a visitor no longer is this world. Fireplace for aesthetics, and the smell of a tree’s final energy. Feet curled up beneath me on a comfortably oversized chair, a colorful thick blanket half kicked off. Projects of every sort in scattered organization. A stripped acoustic guitar waiting new struts on the work bench. A si