my very favorite thing has been happening all morning.
it's been Raining. the best sound in the world is the sound of the rain on a tin roof, especially here in the childhood place of my sweetheart, the Fisherman.
we sleep in what is called the hunting camp, which is really an ancient barn from lord-knows-1800's, which was wasting away somewhere up the road, then was transported here to stand between the wetlands and the one-lane blacktop road. the hunters come here every hunting season, and they drink and eat and get warm by the woodstove after a long day of stalking animals. but when we're here, it's our home.
the bed is in the loft, under the knotty beams that run the length of the barn, sloping down with the eaves. the light coming in from the window is sublime. it's the best place in the world for sleeping. and today is the best sleeping of all.
the fisherman's asleep. the papa's asleep. and the sweet little baby dog who lives with the papa now just curled up in the basket up at my feet and went to sleep.
i love this emerald kingdom of trees, and turtles, and water. the fisherman is so happy here, a fish in his favorite water. my brain isn't very sharp here, but i think that's a good thing. he's always telling me to not worry much, just to be in the present. and Here, the mind and the heart just seem to mush together, melting away anything that feels like worry or fear, leaving only a calming love and peace, and that has to be the best feeling in the world.