Monday, September 24, 2012

The Closing - Sept 23

Those that stayed the night are here for breakfast and an even more casual time of chatting on yesterday's talks.  I pack my art when most of the guests have left.  S asks me if it will all fit in the car.  I reply, "I don't know".  It never has, but this time it does.

My plans of leaving change and I decide to spend the night.  G gives me one of the most heartfelt goodbyes yet.  M also sits to have one last talk with me.  I think that I might have met - and remember - a hundred people or more just through Smoke Farm.  I doubt that I will return to Seattle in the future, but there is no question on my mind that I will return to Smoke Farm.

When everyone is gone, I build a campfire.  It is the only campfire that I have built during the year.  I read a bit, but I see it as a distraction from what I should be paying attention to.  I settle into my sleeping bag, on the wood deck, in the free air, about 8pm.  It is dark.  I listen to the farm.  I think of the birds and animals that I would like to see once again.  And, I think of a couple animals that I do not want to see at night.

Sometime early in the morning, still in the blackness, I am laying on my right side and my ear picks up the padding of something walking on the deck.  I look over my feet and spot a dark shape some 20 feet away.  This was not there when I settled in.  I clunk my feet on the deck and the feral house cat darts off.

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