Blog

Someone knocked on my door the other day. 

Frenzied barking ensued.

After I stashed the dog into another room I was able to open the door and greet my visitor.  It turned out to be a nice fellow whose grandmother used to own and live in our house some 50 years ago.  I recognized the name and as I talked to him on the front step he started to cry a little because he was in town to take his mother's ashes to the cemetery.  I invited him in to take a look at the house.  Before we went inside he pointed to our little flags in the garden and said how much they liked them, especially that one (pointing to the Pride/Progress flag) because it made him feel safe.  We had a nice visit and he left, feeling emotional but in a good way I hope.

Last weekend I went to the pond at the family farm to finish up a painting I've been working on there.  There was no need to listen to an ipod.  The sounds of the birds was so joyful, so encompassing.  My nephew wandered over and we caught up on the news of the week.  (Snakes in the barn!  Ed is walking with just a cane now!  Wood ducks, etc.)  The skies were actually blue that day and it was all very lovely, very comforting in that small quiet way that means the most.

Many years ago my brother and I took our parents out to dinner for their wedding anniversary.  As a topic of conversation my dad suggested that we all share stories and thoughts about the farm.  When it was my turn I said that I had always thought of the farm as a third parent.  They understood completely.  I still do.  She is my safe place, the place I have known and loved for over 60 years. 

There is an Elvis Presley song entitled Stay Away written by Sid Tepper and Roy C. Bennett.  The first verse goes like this:

Ten thousand miles even though I roam

I can hear the call of the hills of home

The canyons high and the valleys low

Echo "How can you stay away"

Trust me, I've never traveled 10,000 miles and never will, but my heart yearns for the farm when I've been away too long.  How can I stay away?  My parents died over a decade ago, but our farm remains.  My family remains.

The painting I was working on that weekend includes a cormorant.  He was hanging around there, scolding me a bit because I was getting too close to his safe place in the trees and shrubs.   I backed away and let him be.

This month is Pride month and Juneteenth as well.  I know how much feeling safe in my heart, feeling at home when I am at the farm means to me.  I am glad that I had my little $5 Pride flag next to my American flags in the yard because it gave someone a measure of safety and security, especially when he was experiencing an emotional and difficult day and just wanted to reconnect with his grandmother's love in the house that used to be her home. 

I hope you can hold onto your safe place too.  And that someone helps you do that if need be.

Take care everyone.

Jill Peckelun