Saturday, March 31, 2012
a make believe tale...
I set the stage: A small house with an attached shop sits beneath the branches of old growth trees, and birdsong is always heard. A small yard with garden flowers and vegetables. The shop is for thread and fabric and stitching and a gathering place for women. The house is not small and not big but has two bedrooms; one for me and one for whomever seeks sanctuary. A fire to chase away cold, and many windows so breezes can chase away hot. A small village to walk to, where everyone says hello.
A small dog to love and who loves me back.
Not much to need. A place to belong. A place to rest. Birdsong and flowers. Light through leaves. A breeze not cool not hot. A kiss on skin, a sparkling light, no fear at night.
I don't know how to build this set.