April has finally arrived, and as I sit watching the sunset colors of ochre and slate, I mull over the transitions to come. Moving day will soon be upon me.
Changes are never easy, especially big, life-changing ones. By this time next year, I will no longer live at this farm, my home of the last twenty years. My youngest who was born here will be moving on after high school, as has her elder siblings. It will be my husband, my eldest special needs daughter, and me.
We will leave New York, and on one level I shall not regret that, given the ever-escalating encroachment by this state's tyrannical government. I spoke today with a deli owner who summed it up succinctly, "They just take everything you own," meaning personal income, freedom, etc.
What I will miss is this state's rural beauty, its wildlife, and the forests I have come to know as well as my own backyard. I will recall the days of autumn foxhunts; I loved a good gallop cross country. The memory of cool early-May mornings and the sound of the first birds as I waited to hear the tom turkeys gobble will probably fade. And would you believe, there may even come a time when I think I will miss cleaning out poop and pee from my horse's stall every morning.
But Pennsylvania horizons beckon. I look out the window of my studio and notice the sky changing from a pale cerulean to a pastel mauve, with the underlining of clouds reflecting the setting sun's glow. As I write, I will certainly miss these New York skies, and wonder if the skies of Pennsylvania will glow as beautifully, as brightly. I pray they inspire me with the same creative inspirations as I've known here.
Da Momma: Opinions, reflections, and other words of profundity, inspiration, humor... maybe some nonsense.
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