Sunday we revisited the Hartman's farm and I was swept by nostalgia for strange things - I remembered fondly last year's two week stay there - a time of cool, foggy mornings, clear, ringing nights - I could remember the taste and smell and feel of many things - it was a time of tomato and onion slices in sugar and vinegar, the faint inside smell of age and dampness and the strong outside smell of sun-warmed pines - days of hot, wearing sun & persistent, buzzing insects and nights of endless, open wonder.
The layout of the house is friendly and comfortable - just like my farm house should be. In a way it was like being in a home I had always known. I could almost hear the angry squaks of the geese as I walked through the barnyard though they are no longer there.
The view from the hilltop was as grand as I'd rememered it, as inspiring & as wonder-ful. And again I felt that a place just such as this would give me everything I want and need for a full & satisfying life - would be all I could ask.
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