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>>trouble reading
this? try highlighting the text or "select all" I haven't been wanting to write much, mostly because no time and my mind is on other things, most of which revolve around working in a vegetarian cafe overlooking otter cove at doe bay nature retreat. there's a family of five [otters] here that i talk to sometimes. we understand each other but it would be impossible for me to translate for you. i sat at contemplation point trying to quiet my busy mind but no matter how hard i tried i couldn't take a single breath without thoughts crowding into it. i'm going to give it time, try to establish some practices. a lot of surprises since i've been here. it's weird--i'm here because i sent an email to john berry--who has lived on orcas island on and off for years--asking if he knew an organic farm i could get into a live/work deal with. that's when he told me he was working at doe bay and suggested i put in a resume. now i'm here, learning tangentially though quite directly about the local food movement (LFM) because 99% of the produce we use comes from orcas island organic farms. i've been meeting farmers and touring farms. (i recently learned my paternal grandfather was a farmer--maybe it's in the blood.) colleagues katie and andrea live and work at george's orcas farm, where tonight there was a birthday celebration for katie, a summer solstice juneteenth coincidence. even in the country, hip-hop rules the dance floor and we kicked a huge beach ball that set a chandelier to swinging. still, i missed sarah and my friends in fremont, where i heard the solstice parade and chuck yeager show at the tractor tavern blazed. oh well, this too shall pass is what i tell myself when i lean towards the morose and lament all the things i'm going to miss. it helps. so does sitting in the sun, which has been asserting itself lately. this is its season, as john quoted susan osborn on tonight's menu: "we're in the bellybutton of summer." this has been a time of recalibration. i'm liking it enough to where i think i'm going to stay here at least until september. you should come visit. it's one of the quietest places i've been. there are long stretches where try as i might i hear no intrusive sounds--no cars, no leafblowers, no lawnmowers, no tractor trailer trucks, jets or buses, no radios, sirens or alarms. just the lapping of water, birdsong, and the sound of deer pulling grass with their teeth. |
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