My sister-in-law recently wrote me and spoke of my choice to live a simple life. I have been thinking about her words for a month now asking myself if the word simple really defines the life we live out here in the wilderness. I can't quite answer the question. I ask myself what is the complex life? I drove to the San Francisco Bay Area this past weekend to celebrate my father's 80th birthday. Drove down late friday. More driving saturday morning to retrieve my son from his home in Santa Cruz. Party number one. Sleep. Drive up to SF to retrieve my daughter and then drive down the peninsula to party number two. Drive to Santa Cruz to stay the night with my son. Monday morning drive seven hours back to my home. Wonderful gathering with family. So much time in the car.
Home again I walk to do my work. Goat care. Walking dogs in the foggy moist forest. A construction project underway here at my home. Up on an orchard ladder in the winter sunshine cutting branches from an ancient apple tree. Computer work for an art installation. The actual art for the installation. Wheeling loads of firewood. Sorting seed for the garden plantings. A night of music with Beeeaters. Awesome young musicians. This is a four mile drive away. The longest I make since my return home.
Some answers to what is a simple life: less driving. Less noise.
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