Familiar

Living in my garage efficiency in the summer affords opportunities to be closer to the natural world

Image by Abbie Paulhus from Pixabay

Many of you know that from May through September, I host guests from all over the world here in seaside Charlestown, Rhode Island. In order to supplement my social security and continue my work as a writer/artist, I turn the keys to my 400-square-foot vintage cottage over to that solo traveler or couple looking for an uncluttered experience.

This will be the first year that my beloved Carla will not be moving into my one-room efficiency across the lawn, and I miss her deeply.

Until I landed studio 206 at the mill, this space was my haven; the place where I created my best work, lived my simplest life, and moved more deeply into the woods that surround my property.

Here’s a poem paying homage to my good fortune.

You all
Know each other
Out here.
I am the stranger. The new
Comer.
I take up residence.
The cement, wood, walls, roof
Insinuate I am safe from
Elements, poisons, weather, but
I am raw. Open. Exposed. Unprotected.
This is your land. Your home.
I am a visitor here.
You will tolerate my noise,
My early morning footsteps on sacred ground.
My tapping, as if I have something important to say.
Truth is, you say it all
Without saying anything at all.

You don’t know distraction.
You graze. Heads bowed. Single focused.
You dip, dive, carefree on currents.
I’m up. I’m down.
I eat when I’m not hungry.
You know things.
Teach me.
More.