I'm so happy siting here with the door wide open wrapped in a large brown bear- like blanket. I feel like some kind of tribal woman in a stolen fur, albeit fake.
The stars are incredible.I can see so clearly the constellations against the blackness and star clusters that make the sky look infinite.The cold blast of night air on my face is invigorating and I'm inspired to write.
It's different living in a barn I have found out, a real barn that was used for raising stock and storing grain. Where I am sitting now, in my lounge was the milking parlour. I remember the milking stalls and the old chains hanging from them, limp and unused, large rings I imagine the cows wore through their noses.
Although I'm indoors it feels as though I am outside in the elements. The large wooden doors of the barn open so wide that they let the outside in so naturally. Its suits me so well and I feel that life has been kind. I'm so grateful for the peace and place where I live, to be close to nature.
Under this old roof that has seen comings and goings, hard work I imagine, but also play and practical jokes I am settling to spend the rest of my life, to do good things in a quiet way.
Looking up at the large heavy beams, the wood seems to be alive, the stone also. I often wonder whose hands lay them. Who measured and designed, who placed them so beautifully. I see them in my minds eye, large rough capable hands, jolly weather cracked faces smoking rolls. Happy men, excellent craftsmen who put a lot of joy into their work I'm sure. It's so beautifully done, I can see they had love for their work.
Its only time that separates us. Me sitting here planning how to use this beautiful space and those who spent time effort and graft into the building of it. We are connected by this place. It feels magic and alive still as time is just a blink, a space between breaths. The memories are imprinted in the stone here. Under the floor where there is now carpet were stone cobbles, I imagine washed daily from cow dung. It's easy to see the cows munching hay with wet noses as the milk squirts in tin pails.I imagine couples sneaking kisses, cuddling and giggling, I know the land girls worked here at one time. It was a hive of activity, vegetables growing, pigs and piglets strutting, calves grazing and sheep...lots of sheep.
So, what will I do with it?
How will I make the most of it?
The place needs to be shared.
The world has become too fast, too concrete, too noisy and not enough time for musings and all things natural.
