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blue jay feather in plant
photo by Sylvia

Instead of the river, there are now trees. Instead of big, tall windows that let in 14 hours of summer sun, there are smaller, shaded windows and a cooler, darker, sweeter space, sprinkled with dapled spots of bright light. How does “place” define us? Interesting question. I look for deer now, not the heron, I look for the skunk at night. I collect blue jay feathers and listen for the cries of the hawks. I pull the pup from the poison ivy and she looks at me as if to say, “when are we going home?” and I say, “little girl, we are home”.

Read: Everything that Remains

everything that remains

Everything that Remains: A Memoir by The Minimalists by Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus (www.theminimalists.com) is the best book of non-fiction I’ve read in a long time.

I’m going to be posting some thoughts regarding Minimalism in the near future. For now, if you are even remotely interested in trying to break free from the burden of possessions, drop everything and read this book.