“A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone.” – Henry David Thoreau
Mornings and evenings are brisk. I enjoy this weather. The straw bale house is cozy and there’s a lot of contrast to when I outside where it’s cold enough to see my breath. The goats watch the door. The instant I appear they call out loudly. They’re ready to be turned out so they can work on maintaining their fat, wooly figures.
I went for a walk. Down the road about a quarter-mile to a dry creek bed. Massive pecan trees grow next to it. I walked under the bridge and into the creek. Then I sat on a large rock for awhile. Quiet sounds of the woods. Birds, pecans falling out of trees, the occasional shuffle of leaves as an unseen creature (armadillo maybe?) forages.
I thought about living more remote. Somewhere a person has the ability to walk through wilderness. I’ve been places like that. I’m drawn to them over and over.