Left Behind

 

I suppose when you actually think about it, I was the one who left, who drove away from the Glen with its trees, the old wonderful mildew-y buildings, the stone bridges and gravel lane leading to the quiet haven, the friends. I was the one who left that place, yes to come home, but I shouldn't complain about people leaving me.
    Yet in my heart I am complaining, I am sighing, I wishing my friends would come back and get me and whisk me away to some other place. Its not that I am unhappy, overall I am quite content. Settled fully now at home, three solid meals a day, a washing machine, a room to call my own filled with wonderful worldly possessions, a a comfortable bed seven nights a week. I feed and care for the horses at Wishing Well Stables in the morning, followed by working with, more like playing with my sweet horse, Mara, who I might add has grown into quite a wonder with a very colorful personality. In the afternoons I work on various sewing projects, with occasional short trips around town, and helping to show the latest member of our family, an exchange from Chile, around.
     Despite all this as I stated above, there continues to be a small piece gone missing, that aspect of friendship and fun that was typical among our group at the glen, among a large group of friends, or a school community. I heard someone say that the biggest thing [Their son] remembers from taking a gap year is being lonely, and now I can see why that is. Despite all the wonderful amazing things that have happened to me, sitting in bed now receiving texts from my friends unpacking belongs into dorm rooms at college, packing backpacks for a final year in high school, cleaning the The Roost for a whole new group of currently naive adolescents about to embark on one of the greatest adventures of their lives (little do they know). Would I go back and not take a year off? NO! I am strong that this is the lifestyle I want and will lead, being that one that moves on and away, not waiting, carrying on, but sometimes there are those moments, those glimmers. The what if's and the but's the urge to settle into so called normal and just be 19, go out with friends, go to college, work an average job. I'm sure that time will come, I will do these things. I have one more year... as I have so many times said. For now though it is a time to relax, to remind myself that MY world is at my command and I can shape it as I will, loneliness is such an easy trap to fall into. I can be lonely if I choose, but... I am never alone. 

Fall Leaves Falling

One of my Raptor neighbors at The Roost  

     Almost a week ago today I awoke on the couch of The Roost, my summer home. From my curled upon position under a nest of scavenged blankets I could see the large window spanning the living room, and outside of it the usual scene, green trees and brown trunks, the tops of wooden raptor cages, but that morning a week from tomorrow there was something new. Golden leaves falling gently through the air, and the summer rains had so many times, but this time that treasure of fall was falling... one by one ever so gently and delicately golden leaves falling amidst the greenery of late summer.
    Of course by now you know me, it was so representational, so significant. This magnificent summer ended one day past and waking up, after my very last night in The Roost, and seeing the season of autumn upon us, marked the ending of that time. While the summer was both hard and perfect, and crazy and amazing, by Saturday I didn't feel sadness packing up all my belongs into the trunk of my car, promising to stay in contact with my friends, perfecting a last practical joke or two on future residents, and a hidden welcome letter to one. It was such an amazing and great ending, so fulfilling. Then came the real goodbyes, wonderful sincere hugs and well wishes, but it wasn't until my boss, the head of command all summer started to cry that she would miss us, that I fell apart. To quote Black Beauty
    "What a wonderful place!" I mean... what other job can you have where tears are the only adequate parting among a boss and yourself. I shall surely miss it, that is certain, and yet as I say this it is not a matter which so quickly ends, but something that fades into something. I have already been back to visit twice, not able to stay away, no it is no longer my home, but I left a piece of my heart there which I will need to visit often.
   Now I am home again, an old home, a new home. A familiar bed and house, but a different sense of the world as it is, a knowledge that I am not the same person. I now have six free months of life, free... in a matter of speaking, no jobs, no major obligations. A new family member arrives tomorrow, an exchange student, time spent feeding at my old barn, a wonderful horse down the road when I want her. I have one more year to be a teenager, one more year to be 19, and one whole year of crazy possibilities.