The Land

I spent a quiet hour this morning watching and trying to sketch a buck resting in our woods near the house. I didn't fill the hummingbird feeder on that side so as not to disturb and didn't march outside to move more rocks ( a constant project to help drainage around). I went back to working on a painting that I'd started the other day, at peace with the world, happy the buck was enjoying the woods, and... suddenly the electricity went out, things beeping everywhere, the buck running off. I heard a man tromping around the side of the house, raced out, and - it was the electric workman replacing our meter.

We are a mile from the nearest house, you can count the numbers of cars on one hand that go by in a day, and still, the modern world kicks in. Well, I wouldn't want the olden days of no electricity I assure you. Our community is on the old site of a mining town with some of the old miner's cabins standing on what is common area. There were 40 buildings at one point, with a saloon, dance hall, and one room schoolhouse. It was a very hard life from what I've read and no modern conveniences. So strange, the land remains the land, we just borrow it for awhile.