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the people’s almanac
november 7 2024
hector running up that hill! / november 12, 2024
fall cleaning / november 27, 2024
it’s two days after the election and somehow i’m waking from the best sleep i’ve had since i’ve moved here. one deep sleep and i am new, and reconnected with my sense of hope & possibility...
yesterday early morning i had to go to urgent care because the pain from my smashed thumb was too much. it happened right when i passed through the gate. Jiordi says the land can be severe in that way, when they want to communicate something. whatever it was, i could hardly sleep through the pain two nights ago. the doctors gave me a splint but they couldn’t drain the blood from under my nail because it had already hardened. the splint’s helped massively with the throbbing. they told me to keep it elevated above chest level. it’s funny, when i place my thumb pointing down, i feel the blood rush towards it and the throbbing starts again, so i’ve had to walk around with a permanent thumbs up. such a painful and unpleasant injury, and i am stuck signaling positivity.
i wonder what the lesson is in all this. to orient upward? to stay with the humor? though they often do, this injury doesn’t feel like a consequence. and in some strange way, despite the severity of my arrival, i was happier to return home to this place than i have been in a while. i am always grateful for this place & yet often life here feels dificult. but i felt the land talking with me while i was gone this time. i’ve missed it dearly. and somehow, despite everything, i am alright.
when i came back i found that Jiordi had turned my casita around, so the front door faces north out towards the road. i had mentioned i wanted a reorientation a while back but it was still a surprise. i got in as the sun was setting so i didn’t get the chance to fully locate myself, and that night the house felt strange. but this morning, waking up to the sun coming in the right way, and praying facing east with the sunrise, i felt so grateful for the shift. last night i sat on my steps and greeted the stars again - it was so clear out, there were so many. lately, when i look out into the night i let it fall over me like a blanket. it feels like relief and it feels like God. i am not alone, i am not alone, we are not alone out here.
pleiades (and other stars) / november 23, 2024 / bellweather
on the way back from the doctor, we were reflecting that fall here feels a bit like a sort of spring. like the land is being reborn after the severity of summer. i can see it happening. and i can feel the aliveness that saturates this place after a little rain. there is young grass lifting up around the land right now. it is sweet to see it break up the blanket of brown that’s been covering the hills for months. today, the upper orchard looks idyllic. the sheep grazed it back in august, and cleared so much off the ground. now, some weeks and some rain later, there’s a soft layer of green peeking up from below.
it’s nice when change comes gently. i am grateful for this season. soft enough that even as things fall (as the leaves, the temperatures, the rains), things lift as well. up through the rocks,
& through other hard things.
it’s nice to know there can be another inhale