Tonight the moon was almost full and shining red through the pines on the bit of earth in Northern Minnesota that we have recently tagged “our land” (although I still doubt that anybody can actually “own” such a thing). We have been here for one week and the magical flow we discovered from the moment we decided to buy into these twenty acres continues.
On our way out from Rapid City, SD, Milt and I were coming to terms with the fact that we probably would not have the expertise or resources to actually begin building our strawbale house. On Tuesday we considered finding a camper or something more substantial than a tent to live in while we prepare our project. On Wednesday we found two potential old campers, made an offer on one, hooked it to my brother’s truck, and pulled it to our homestead. It is a 1966 Trailblazer and we bought it for $250. By Thursday we had cleaned it, repaired some leaks, blocked it, and generally made it livable. Now, a week later, we are sleeping like babies in our cozy bed and listening to all the night sounds with the breezes blowing across our faces. Of course, we also do nightly mosquito checks to make sure none of the friendly (hungry) little buggers have followed us in the door.
They have completely torn up the main street of Cass Lake. Evidently the town received a major “Miracle” grant and is trying to bring itself back to life. The main street will now be paved with bricks that, hopefully, will attract new businesses and energy. I walked around down there today thinking about how busy it was when I went to high school here-two drug stores, three grocery stores, several bars, Two Traders, and the Five and Dime. Now-not much.
Not since I graduated from college and moved to SD (in 1977) have I spent this much time here. I am feeling strange and adrift, as if my main street had been torn up and something new was about to replace it. I am just not sure what. Our small 8 x 18 foot trailer requires that we choose carefully what we “want” and then keep it in its right space. The land makes me breathe more fully in a way that I haven’t in many years. A few days ago I discovered one of the most beautiful wild blueberry patches I’ve ever seen-and it is right on our land. The plants are loaded with green berries that begin to blush toward blue. I go now every day to see how they are progressing and feel confident they will be ripe for me to pick before I have to leave.
All of this is making me feel oddly alive and young. It makes me wonder what it was I was trying to accomplish-push, push, push. Sometimes I have tried so hard to be “something” that I just forgot to “be”.
Now I just want to be.
So far this is the first writing I have done since we got here. We were busy carving a small space for ourselves, nudging Mother Nature over just a bit. Tonight was the first night I felt that peculiar itch I get to put words on paper (or my computer). I am curious to see if I can find a new rhythm of writing AND being as we are here over the next two weeks. We did set up to do The Bead People at the annual Rib Fest this weekend so that should be fun.
It has also been many years since I have lived close to so many family members again. They keep popping in and out and bringing many gifts. When I woke up this morning there was a small round table outside the trailer. I didn’t see it but evidently my nephew, Ryan, found it at the recycling place and thought we might be able to use it. He wrote his name with sticks to let us know he had left it. And then tonight when I returned home from doing some other stuff, there was a bucket of newly-dug raspberry bushes beside my trailer-and a new metal plate replacing the hole in the floor near my front door. Last night we were ferried over the lake by one brother so we could join another brother on Star Island while he tried out their new Snuba gear. Snuba is a combination of snorkeling and scuba-a generator on a floating tire, two 40-foot hoses, mouth breathing gear and weights to help you explore the underwater world.
So, I am surrounded by gifts both from the earth and from family and friends. Could it be that as I seek a simpler life, it will get richer in many other ways? Probably. I would certainly like to find out.
What a life. And by the way, my 24 blueberry plants seem to be thriving and establishing new roots-just like us. I think it will be hard to leave in two weeks and the only thing I will miss are a few trillion ticks and mosquitoes.
More on our adventures to follow . . .
Jamie