"Mountain Magic" the for sale ad calls it. Seven pastured acres on the side of a mountain. A passive solar, rammed earth and glass house with views over the inlet, the karri forest and to the mountains in the distance. A dam full of marron and trout. An orchard full of fruit; a vegie garden bursting with goodness. Room for a pony or two. Birdsong by day, frog chorus at night. It sounds like paradise. Following the long tree-lined drive up to the house, it looks like paradise. It's just the sort of place that I would love; the answer to that long-cherished dream of a few acres in the country. The catch is, this time it's me selling.
At this point - three sleeps after our move back to the city - we are all still reeling from the upheaval and change. But it's not all melancholy. Old friends are close at hand; there is the excitement of new jobs and new schools about to begin; our familiar things emerge from the packing boxes and the rental house begins to look and feel like home. Despite the wrench of leaving our country place, this feels like the right thing to be doing now. But the dream of a few acres in the country is still strong in me, and in my family too. I suspect it's a relatively common dream. I guess that's what I want to explore in this blog - that yearning that so many seem to feel for a place in the country - a few acres - and my own experiences in trying to fulfill it.