Home.

How can I paint a feeling with words.
The dusty remnants of a hot day gone stale. The still air waiting for the cool of night to descend. My life here is a million miles away from my imagination, both a blessing and a strange mix of excitement and dislocation. I love these late walks with the dogs, the final goodnight to a full and busy day. The ponies have the last of their daily hay, the chickens put to bed and the dogs and often the cats walk with me along the long and silent road as our nightime slumber approaches.
Tonight, the moon has yet to rise, the shadows are heavy and a dark, a silent shape follows our progress beside the tall, over my head corn. Finally, she can stay quiet no more, a little meow and I know that it's Piper, it's always Piper. Soft and silky, like smoke at our heels. We turn for the return and she falls to the ground in a dramatic gesture of needyness. Cuddle me, she squirms. We stop and do. She then falls in beside us and we return through the golden arched light of the trees, illumined by the house light. Home, familiar yet still new.

My poetic meanderings are what fills my brain as I say goodnight to the day that's been. It's hard and lovely here :D