Currently, when asked where we live or what we are up to I half jokingly reply that we are visiting all those people that over the years have said "Oh, if ever you are in town do come and stay" to see if they really meant it. Our friends Robbie and Susie never explicitly made that offer, we just asked and then showed up and as so many times in the past they have opened their house to us with grace.
Robbie and I worked together in Lexington thirty five years ago and then as Virginia and I migrated west he put down roots in Kentucky, farming horses, raising children and pursuing his passion as Joint Master of the Woodford Hounds.



The contrast of life on the farm with ours as peripatetics brings forth questions of wherefore and what if. As with all journeys we cannot know what lies down the path not chosen, but our stay here has provided a reflective look through a window into one possibility.

To farm, live like a tree
That does not grow beyond
The power of its place.
A tree stands in its place
And rises by the strength
Of local soil and light,
Aspiring to no height
That it has not attained.
More time, more light, more rain
Will make it grow again
Till it has realized
All that it can become,
And then it dies into
More life, deserving more
By not desiring more.

"The Farm" ... Wendell Berry