Ups and downs

It's been almost four weeks since I arrived here on Orcas Island and eight weeks to the day since the ferry delivered Shareen and I here for the first time and this whole adventure revealed itself as a possibility. 

Maybe you remember when we were here in September, we learned from the matriarch of the farm we stayed on that they needed some help with the farm - cleaning it up from the tourist season and getting it ready for winter - and doing some remodeling work on a couple of other properties they own. That's the conversation that set this plan in motion.

Shareen and I got home from our trip, talked about the possibility together, then with the farm family, and decided to have a go. 

I started at "Can Barely Contain My Excitement" and, at various times, have visited "WTF Am I Doing?!"; been in-between those extremes most of the time.

I remember eights days before I set sail from home, I felt 100% pure excitement. The next morning I was walking Georgia past the park and thought how strange it was going to be to not see that park for such a long time and what am I doing to Shareen and how could I possibly...

Oy. And so it's been.

Most mornings at sunrise-ish I walk the farm with coffee. And most of those mornings feel joyous - watching the sun dissipate the clouds that swirl at eye level in the valley, observing the contours of the land and the light, being in the orchard with the trees or the wide open field or near the coops where the birds are all chompin’ at the bit to bust out for the day if only the guy with coffee would open the door. 

And there have been several mornings recently when I've walked the farm feeling a sadness and looming sense of loss knowing that one of these mornings will be my last. It's amazing to me how quickly I could feel a part of this place, it a part of me.   

And everything in between: The excitement of a new place. The loneliness of experiencing it day after day by myself. The work - demanding, exhilarating, exhausting. Being a temporary member of an established community, just passing through really - what's worth my time and energy? Should I just stay in tonight? What would I do if I went out? The intriguing experience of getting to know the family that runs the farm...and how much am I bothering them with my every question (from Do you by chance have any spare sour cream? to Where should I put my recycling? to How low should I prune these dogwoods?)? I hope their patience is a renewable resource.

A mercurial experience - like some of life’s best It’s a blessing to be here. I might never need any more than this place has. I can’t wait to get home. I want to find a way to bring Shareen to the island and stay. I’m smitten by the work of the farm and wonder what it would be like to live this way. And I’m excited to get back to contributing to something meaningful in an “organizational job”.

Up and down. Both, and.