I belong in the woods. i belong where wildness can be tamed…but just. i belong where make do and handmade and hand built all meet. i belong where the label of Pioneer Woman is not about selling recipes and cookware…where it's about beekeeping and growing vegetables and canning and sitting by a fire at night slow stitching. i belong in the woods where your enjoyment and your exhaustion comes from sustaining your life…where snowshoes are the latest fashion, and Carharts are dirty. where things sometimes go wrong, but things feel just so right. maybe a dream version? possibly. but i know how my heart clutches and the tears flow when i think about, dream about, read about a nice little cabin in the woods…not too close, not too far…not too big, not too small. decorated with handmade rag rugs and essentials of daily living…not too rustic but not too modern. and definitely with a big soaking tub. i ask myself why, then, have i chosen my current address?
I returned to the piney woods of New Hampshire two months ago, after an absence of a few years. I couldn't not. I just couldn't not. it was the woods that called me. yet more. it was the True Hearts that called me. and yet more. To leave was a loss so deep. to drive away was as difficult as i remembered. to stay would be folly. wouldn't it?
i await some answers.