Time Out O' Mind

Years ago, somewhere around the early 1990s, I lived on a 500 acre farm in rural Virginia in a very old farmhouse with no running water and an outhouse. Though I was there for a short two months, it was one of those experiences that I treasure. A friend of mine's family owned these 500 acres and the farmhouse was the old family home. It was set back about 2 miles from the main road. There were wild turkey that roamed the woods and we had quite a collection of feathers as they left their gorgeous calling cards on branches. There was an old corn crib and quail in the fields. I was in between jobs and at a crossroads in my life; and I had some interesting friends who were also kind of in between varying stage of their lives. So, our mutual friend offered the house as a kind of time out - no rent, catch your breath, dream, figure out what to do next -kind of time. It is one of my most treasured memories.

Remember Walden Pond when Thoreau described sitting in a doorway all day and listening to the sounds of nature? The only distraction was the sound of a passing wagon. Virginia and that 500 acre farm in Arc was that kind of time out o' mind for me.

There were three of us who lived out at the house and friends would come to help paint, bring water, or just visit on the weekends. We dug a fire pit and we would have a bonfire each night. We sat on tree trunks that had been arranged around the pit in a circle. One of my friends was a fabulous cook and she managed to make us great meals in the old kitchen. Another one was a professional clown (among other talents) and even one of his friends was Patch Adams!

What I remember the most about that time is the incredible inky blackness of the night, the milky way that seemed to go on forever, and the starlight that was so bright you barely needed a flashlight. One night I became disoriented because the ground was also bejeweled and blinking on and off, just like the sky. We discovered it was due to glow worms which are the larvae of fireflies!

The campfire became a way of life at night. A way to drain all of the cares of of the day and share our experiences. The fire was transforming. We began to tell stories. Then, quiet would eventually ensue as we were tapped out and took our sleepy selves off to our beds.

I return to these memories often. In this fast moving technoworld, I long for the nightly campfire and friendly campfire talk. It seems so natural to gather at the end of the day, and it seems also natural to want to stare into a fire. And, with the stress of my child's diagnosis and the added responsibilities, I think, wouldn't it be nice to have this kind of ritual to look forward to instead of just collapsing in a heap after he is finally put to bed? Even Liberty is calmed by the nighttime air and staring into a fire. I think it is something that is just in our blood, going way back to our ancestors. Perhaps this is why fire bowls are so popular now.

Hey...hmmm....maybe I'll get a fire bowl for the backyard this autum. Won't be quite the same as being way out in the woods, but it's a start. Creating even tiny islands of peace each day makes a big difference.