My Sanctuary

Times are tough, frustration
Need relief, medication
Gone too far, intoxication
Fight the urge, of temptation
Sanctuary
It's much too close, contamination
Love and pain, and deviation

~~ "Sanctuary" by The J. Geils Band

The shape of Nutwood to come

Some of you may know that the name of this blog comes from what we named our place: Nutwood Junction. Long story short, it got its name because this used to be a little unincorporated town called Nutwood, and a railroad ran through here. We still own half of the railroad bed (the railroad has long been out of commission and the rails and ties torn up), and the property across the road was the site of a small railroad depot. 

Anyway, I have always called this place "my sanctuary." When I was working, I could hardly wait to get home, stripping off my scrubs as soon as I got in the door and changing into comfy clothes, and that was never more so than during nice weather. I'd head out to the deck immediately to read the mail, get some fresh air, and just take in some nature. We have eleven acres, including a few small ponds, wetlands, and woods, and a multitude of wildlife and birds. Even on my darkest days, it renews my soul. 

That is truer than ever at the moment. The weather will get colder this weekend (that's why I never plant anything until mid-May, at the earliest) but today felt like summer was just around the corner. It got up to the mid-70s and I was able to open several windows and enjoy some fresh air. I spent a little time out on the deck sweeping it off, getting the bird feeders filled, and repairing a favorite bamboo wood chime. (Please ignore the rubber band. That was the easiest way to fix it!)

We had a big thunderstorm last night (and will probably have another one this evening) and that has really started waking things up. The trees are budding and I'm seeing some sprouts of green out front and out in the woods. It's only a matter of time before we are in full foliage. 

The world is just all kinds of fucked up right now (and none more so than this current administration) but seeing our place come back to life made me feel joyful and maybe even a little hopeful. Long after we're gone, nature will renew itself (unless we manage to fuck that up, too, and the current administration says, "Hold my beer"), and will keep on keeping on. She'd probably be better off without us. 

I honestly don't know what will happen. I worry. I worry a lot, Bevvie! (Bonus points to anyone who gets that reference.) I worry about Ken, I worry about my Mom and my sisters, I worry about Shane and Matt, I worry about our friends, I worry about friends I've never met, I worry about our local artists and musicians and restaurants...and I worry about pretty much everyone in the goddamn world. 

But today, the windows are open, the frogs are peeping in the ponds, I'm barefoot, and you know what? 

I'll take it. 

 

Bring it!

This was pretty much me the past few days. After a long, chilly spring that brought snow much later than usual, we seem to be finally getting some warm, sunny days. For those of you who live in nice weather year-round, I think it’s kind of hard to understand the sheer joy that comes with the onset of nice weather after the winter.

I enjoy living in a place where we have a change of seasons; each has its own unique beauty for me. But there is no denying that winter can be a drag around here. (At least for me. For those who enjoy getting out and snowmobiling or cross country skiing, I’m sure it’s a regular yuk-fest. Not this gal.) Because this winter seemed to drag on for so long, and the spring was cooler than normal, I had a horrible case of spring fever. I love summer. I love the heat and even the humidity, within moderation (it can get a little much even for me). It is awfully gloomy around here in the winter, and it gets dull and brown.

But when spring starts popping, color comes back to the world. The grass has been greening up nicely, and tiny leaves are popping out on some of the trees. All of the spring bulbs are up, yellow and white daffodils, purple, pink, and white hyacinths, and red tulips.

I spent some time outside walking around the yard and picking up all the debris that accumulates during the winter. I was constantly distracted by all the little wildflowers in the grass: wild violets, both purple and white; tiny little white flowers; trilliums; and grape hyacinths everywhere under an elm tree, although I don’t remember planting any there. The blueberry bushes have tiny leaves forming, and the redbuds are going to blossom any day now.

It’s hard to adequately convey how wonderful this time of year is. That first hint of green and of flowers blossoming. How wonderful it feels to ditch the heavy clothes and walk around in next to nothing. The feeling of the sun on your skin, soaking up the rays like a sponge. Having the windows open, the fresh air, the sound of the house wren outside the bedroom window, building its nest and singing its little heart out.

I’m always a pretty cheery person, but the past few days have me over the moon and walking on the sun.