It’s so quiet tonight. I’m typing this story out on the terrace surrounded by the beautiful sound of cicadas and the warm glow of citronella candles trying to keep away the “skeeters.”
I have not laid eyes on or spoken a vocal word to another human today… just my dogs. The phone has not rang, and I’ve not left the house. My roommate is out of town, and no one has stopped by. All day, It’s just been me and Raoul… and Raoul is a 1968 Mustang.
♫♪ “When I lose my smile
When my thoughts get jumbled
When the air and BS get too thick
Can’t take a breath without getting sick
I’ve had enough with this concrete jungleI drop my truck in drive
I pick up my baby
She jumps in with a kiss and a hey
We exit off that old highway
Sometimes you gotta go beyond the pavement.” ♫♪
My home is my sanctuary, and for the most part, I have always kept it completely to myself. It’s my little piece of heaven. I absolutely love the location. To get here, you drive until you’re feeling completely lost… go 12 more miles, and there it is!
♫♪ “You gotta go deep Way on back Cross a few creeks And a couple little shacks
You gotta get lost
Way on out
Crickets and frogs
Yeah you’re gettin’ close nowAnd you kick it into four wheel drive when you run out of road
And you go, and you go and you go-go-go
‘Til you hear a banjo” ♫♪
All “Deliverance” jokes aside, I live waaay back in the woods… and I love it. It’s one of the most peaceful places I have ever lived in my life. My short time in NYC and once for a couple of months in Chicago gave me a real longing for home.
I feel incredibly blessed to have what I have. It may not be the best place, but it’s mine, and it’s something I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. I plan to live here until death.
When life throws it’s fiery darts at me, and I need to escape it all, I can do it right in my own back yard… literally. My big iron gate at the end of the drive and several acres of pines make me feel very secure and safe. I can have a quiet day like today without a care in the world or even the worry or concern of an unwanted visitor or intruder.
You may read this and never understand why this is… and chances are, you never will. It’s who I am, and it’s what helps me keep my sanity. Because of this, I not only see no reason to apologize, but no reason to change. Some people can’t handle a place like this… but not I. The quiet life is good for me.
It’s a place called home, and it’s also the namesake of my story… Alarida. I live on Alarida Farms, and that is where most of my stories are composed. It’s a place where I can discuss the story of my life, for those who care to read it. Never forced on anyone, it’s the thread and fibers of my journey of life. It may not be the most exciting, and sometimes it can even be a little dark… but it is what it is. And it is me. It’s where I’m not ashamed to admit that I LOVE the sound of a banjo.