divided

I have a secret.  For a few years now I have been dreaming about moving to the other side of the Wasatch.  I listen to the weather of the Wasatch back and pine for the snow loads, the early falls, and late summers.  I want more than anything to move there.

Wanship, Frances, Coalville, Samak, Heber...

I long for life on the other side.

The reason this would be a secret is my ties to my community & this old farm house and land on the west side are so public saying out loud I want to go seems near blasphemous. 

My love of the Jordan river is the closet thing to religion I may ever find.  And yet my desire to go is mounting. 

Being sick hasn't helped. Half asleep half awake I dream of a another little farm house tucked in a hillside in Wanship, of goats and chickens, a long slow dirt driveway and how to get from there to gym down long twisted roads through falling snow. 

I think no phones, no computer, a good car, lots of books.  I imagine a clothesline, a cat, another dog, wildflowers, a woodpile, overalls, boots, dust, sunlight, snow, and nothingness.

 

Then I start to feel bad for how lonely Beach will be locked away with me and I start to create new friends for her who live near by but I hate how they come to the door and want to talk so I decide to un-invent them and return to perfect isolation.

I'm tired.  I want the world to be quiet.  I want to be smothered in stinging silence.  I don't want to guess any more about motivates, thin ice, egg shells, or why some one calls or doesn't. I want visits from friends to last days and alone time between them to last week.  I want the sureness that comes with those type of arrangements; friends who stay, friends who come back.

This is Josh's house in the Heber valley, that magical other side.  It is one of the oldest houses in Heber.  Once belong to the town Doctor, who was also the town drunk. Beach and I drove up this morning for a car load of hand-me-downs from him to us.  The drive up was cool and rainy, the trees turning from both season and drought.  Eventually his house will go on the market.  Now that his kids are older he is tired of living this far out of the way.

And this is the park down the street from his house. 

Click your heels together and say,

'there is no place like home'. 

Oh how I wonder.