“Though a lifetime of listening to the music of the world has passed, even now the tone of the rain on the roof of my home is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.”
~ Kensi Brianne Smith
We’ve been up in Brisbane this past week, and it’s been full on.
I’ve had doctors’ appointments and the sorts of things to attend to that can only be done in the city.
I’ve held space for friends and clients who have suffered tragedy and tempest.
And we’ve been elder caring.
Ben’s mum is old and increasingly frail, although stubbornly independent, bless her. She’s at the age where suddenly she needs help with everything: shopping, cooking, home maintenance, paying bills – all the things she has done so competently for the entirety of her life. But we don’t mind at all. We love her, and she is family.
Still, it’s stressful, and we worry constantly about her.
Yesterday finally we packed up to drive home to the farm.
There is a place we come to, just over the border between Queensland and New South Wales, where I unfailingly begin to unwind and feel better. City and suburbia fall away and at a turn in the road the highway is suddenly blanketed by cane fields and farms with a backdrop of dusky crags.
The tension leaves my body. I sigh audibly. A sense of relief creeps over me.
Many of our friends from the Byron Shire experience the same thing; that falling away of worries as we move into the encircling arms of the ancient volcanic rim that cradles our homes.
How about you? Do you have a place in the journey home where suddenly you feel better too? I’d love to know.
Hugs and love from all of us here at the farm, Nicole xx