Craving a Week of Sundays

This past weekend (plus a little) we retreated to a ranch in Madera County, just 17 miles south of Yosemite.

Two families on 140 acres, with hammocks, a grill, good books and games. No TV. No videos. Just swings and land and horses and a river.

For the first time I found myself craving a country getaway of my very own. It could be rustic and tiny, in the mountains or by the sea. It could sleep four on the floor, and have wind whistling through cracks in the winter.

I just want a beautiful, and sacred place, quiet and away, where me and mine can step back, turn of the links, drown ourselves in nature, and regroup. I want a place that restores that sense that there is nothing to do, nothing that CAN be done, because you are so isolated. I want a place that is so simple you remember that all it really takes to be happy is a good book or two, a harmonica or a guitar, some simple food and a roof over your head.

Our philosophy has always been, why buy something for way too much money, when you can rent out other people's dream homes and have it all. But suddenly I crave my very own place, outfitted with my simple art, my very own spices, my favorite books, my weathered birdhouses. I long to enter and find all my beloved things there, waiting for me.

I long for that wide open empty time that must have once occurred on Sundays, but now seems to occur not at all, unless you are way far away, without an internet connection.

I long for the stillness that brings clarity, and the time to sink into nature in a way that is one step past boredom, and only occurs with a kind of isolation that is virtually impossible in urban life today.

Ideally my little house would have a wood stove and a bathtub outside under the stars. It would have a shelf of books and a hammock under a tree. It would have a shady front porch, and you would be able to hear the sound of water from inside the house. There would be a little dirt path to the front door, and no other houses within view.

I think that is it.

Where is my cabin?