I'd Rather Be . . .

I had rather be on my farm, than be emperor of the world.
~ George Washington ~
No truer words were spoken. And I didn't realize the truth of them until we moved onto our own little farm in the heart of Wisconsin. Or until we had rabbits and ducks and chickens and goats. Or until our alpacas came from the farm where we were boarding them to our farm. Or until now, almost a year later, we are settling in to our little farmhouse and well established routines.

Life takes on more meaning on a farm. You are forced to look outside of yourself to the animals in your care and the land you're living on. There's no sleeping in. There's no, "I'll do it tomorrow". You are gently guided into being present. You do not dwell in the past and are not worried about the future. You are in the moment. Thinking and planning on how to best use the space you've got and how you can make a difference.

Chores are not chores, but are ways of spending time with the animals. Looking for signs of illness or injury. Listening to them as they chatter away happily - wishing you could understand them. Almost wishing, at times, that you were one of them. Ducks get along with chickens and barn cats get along with rabbits. There's no animosity. They simply coexist. There's enough for everyone. Everyone gets what they need.

Stepping outside my door in the morning I am grateful for the quiet and peace of living in the country. It was the first thing that struck me when we first arrived. Having spent several years in a small town with a malting facility and the constant drone of machinery and fans, I cried tears of relief and joy. The silence was a most welcome friend. Silence is something I cherish. I don't have the radio playing as other's do. I prefer listening to chickens and ducks any my miniature pig grunting. And the sounds of nature. The birds. The wind. Far off trains blowing their whistles. I enjoy the sounds of life.

With winter almost at an end, we've lived life on our farm through the four seasons. Grateful for the experiences and the learning curves. Grateful that we had a relatively moderate winter. Grateful that spring is almost here. Grateful that the ground has thawed enough that we can get the barn door fully open. Grateful for farm fresh eggs. Grateful for the gift of this farm.

And so we find ourselves content with our little piece of the world. We don't feel the need or desire to travel. We enjoy being on our farm, surrounded by animals, enjoying the peace and quiet. We are home.