THOUGHTS ON LEAVING

We leave here in less than two weeks and my thoughts turn to the months that have passed here and the things that stand out for me. Most important is the continued contact with the natural and the non-human world that we are immersed in here.
By contrast, at home that contact with the sentient landscape begins to fade as I become more self-focused and preoccupied with my daily tasks and primarily human concerns. I may wake up to see a beautiful sunset or to watch a gopher tugging at a plant in the garden or to talk to the snake that crosses my path, but I quickly return to my inner world, my preoccupations.
I just visited the goat stall where my favorite goat, her kid, and another female goat have been isolated and contained with a young male goat from Sergio’s farm. They have been crying for two days to be free to join the others. The male ran back to Sergio’s when he was released, and the purpose for his visit, of course, is to impregnate the females. He is smaller than one of the girls, and I wonder if he is up to the task. One of the kids with horns turns his head to the side to fit it through the wooden railings and I marvel at his learning. I talk to them and give them some dried bread. I note their differences, how much fear they show, how they respond to me. They let me touch them. I do this almost daily.
The pig, which I’ve named Massimo, had a shower yesterday. He seemed to enjoy being under the hose Arturo held and drinking from it. He came over to me, sniffed my hand, and looked at me with watery eyes. He is a huge ugly beast but beautiful in his ugliness.
The chickens get excited when I approach- maybe expecting food or maybe aware of a stranger. The rooster becomes alert and struts among his harem proudly.
For the last three days David and I, with our two wonderful friends from Scotland, harvested the whole corn field with Arturo and Margherita. We sat on crates together in the field talking and laughing for three or four hours each day while shucking corn in the sun. The dogs and the cat were there with us. Dik liked to lay down on the pile of unshucked corn stalks in the middle of everything. The clouds billowed above us, one briefly covered the sun. We all stopped work to watch the flight of a hawk or the sound of an approaching vehicle. The time flew and the work got done. I said to Arturo-we can finish today ; he answered- no. After a few more exchanges I understood what he meant. For him the work is there, he does what he does, and tomorrow he will do more. It is continuous. It is his life. He is in harmony with the earth he cultivates and the animals he feeds. It is timeless.
After work we eat dinner together. More laughing. Good food from the field, wild boar from the forest, wine from their grapes,olive oil from the silvery trees I see from my window as I write.
It is this that I love most- being in this beautiful valley, close to the source of the food we eat, living with animals who become that food, and with those animals who are part of the family. Margherita and Arturo are simple, generous, and honest people who have inherited this life, nutured its continuance, and lovingly shared it with us for twenty years. I have learned a lot from them.
(click the flickr link for photos)