Go by the narrow road
Along the creek, a burrow
Under shady trees
Such as a modest mouse makes through
Tall grass, so that you may
Forget the paved road you
Have left behind, and all
That it has led to. Or,
Best, walk up through the woods,
Around the valley rim,
And down to where the trees
Give way to cleared hillside
So that you can reach the place
Out of the trees' remembrance
Of their kind; seasonal
And timeless, they stand in
Uncounted time,

From "The Farm" by Wendell Berry

We are in Kentucky, the home state of poet and author Wendell Berry. If you have any time today look him up and find some of his work because it is sublime and his ideas are timeless.

We are staying on the Thoroughbred breeding and boarding farm of our very dear and old friends Robbie and Susie Lyons. They have four grown boys, one who is the Wendell Berry fan, therefore his books are everywhere in his room where we are staying.

It is sad thinking of Mandy still and quiet under her winter blanket back at the boat yard, although at the same time, it is heaven to feast my eyes on the intense colors of autumn, walk through the rolling paddocks of the Bluegrass with farm dogs, and come back to a warm farm kitchen for tea. The forecast is for snow flurries today; another forgotten phenomenon of Nature for us, but something that I suspect this winter we will become much more familiar.