Usually when we come home from New York City, as much as I enjoy it, I’m ready to be back at the farm. Often we jam so much into a few days that I’m exhausted and over stimulated by all the sights, sounds and smells. I always find it freeing as we leave the tall buildings, pavement and congested streets behind us. I find myself relaxing as the trees replace houses, the traffic thins and the mountains slowly appear ahead of us as we drive up the Taconic Parkway towards home.
But this time, I could feel my mood sinking instead of lifting. I tried to think about what I would work on in my studio tomorrow then, when that didn’t help, I imagined seeing all the animals, taking a walk in the woods with Lenore. But it all fell flat. Even the momentary blue sky and sunshine felt depressing. It should have been as gray and gloomy as it was cold outside.
“Uck” I said out loud, “I’m feeling down.” I came to the conclusion that the trip it self and the days before it had been filled with such uplifting things that it was not unusual to feel low. The excitement of Kickstarter and Jon getting his camera and the relaxed couple of days in the city (we did less and enjoyed it all more), well, it all seemed to be over. And now I was coming down from a nice high.
I drove on in a daze, the trip seeming to take longer than usual. We stopped for gas at Stewarts and ate half a chocolate bar. When we got home the donkeys and sheep were at the gate. Simon and Fanny serenaded us with brays, the dogs clamored around the door to go out and the cats circled our legs. Little by little as I unpacked the bags, fed the cats, filled up the water bucket, shoved the manure out of the pole barn, started fires in the stoves, my mood lifted.
When I look out my window, Lulu is grazing the fallen hay from the feeder. Lenore and Frieda are sleeping together in front of the wood stove. Jon’s in his study writing with Red at his feet. The quiet, the slowness the settling in, back home feels good again.