So many places to explore!
We had a lovely tour of this tiny house on Sunday. Then on Monday, we went to visit our dear friends, the Lanhams, on their beautiful farmstead.
I am always overwhelmed with wonder when I go to visit the Lanhams. Their farm, Little Valley, is my dream home – and has been since I was 10 years old. It’s a dream that I cannot shake, no matter how far off the reality of owning over 200 acres in Leelanau County (and maintaining a collection of beautiful, old buildings) really is. But, when we visited on this particular day, the day after touring a tiny house just a few miles away, the contrast of the two homesteads was just so striking. I love the idea of so little to care for, on the one hand. And I love the idea of so much to care for, on the other hand. What is this all about? It’s such a paradox, isn’t it? Longing for so little. Longing for so much.
stepping out of the arctic air
into the greenhouse warmth
welcomed by our dear farmer friend
who put these three little people right to work
planting ginger mothers!
as she and I talked
about the changing seasons
I looked around,
thinking how the seeds of my wedding flowers
were seeded in this very space
by Jenny’s hands.
how grateful I am
for our long friendship
and for roots of love
that grow deep
at Meadowlark Farm.
Wallace was surrounded by so much love on his birthday. It was so life affirming to spend the evening with family and friends and celebrate this little boy’s vibrant being.
Wallace is obsessed with our neighbor Mike’s grill. For his birthday, Mike and Paula made a mini version for Wallace! Such delight!
As soon as he finished his cake, he said, “Again, grill!”
I spent an hour this morning photographing my good friend doing bodywork on a horse. Horse Shiatsu. It was beautiful to witness. I love how being the photographer gave me a special “license” to be in the space and pay close attention to the whole process. The barn was quiet with the sound of shuffling animal hooves and sweet smell of hay. Light filtering in through the open door illuminated Truman’s mane and whiskers, and every so often he would move towards me to say hello before relaxing back into his horse massage.