An empty, wind-swept beach, a yellow kite dipping and spiraling above the breakers, soccer ball kicking down the sand, the kids running on the tidal flats, their distant yells barely audible above the surf. The deal today was we were going to do something together as a family. It takes awhile, but eventually something clicks and everyone is pulling together. Taken up by the wind, the immensity of sky and ocean, the personality distinctions melt away and it's just fun. Family dynamics are kind of like water, finding their level. An empty, windy beach is a good place to do the trick.
Yesterday was busy, running up to the farm in the Quaker district with Michael, piling bales twenty at a time in the trailer, multiple trips, stacking them neatly in the sheep barn at home.
Live for today, all the books will say so.
The two elderly brothers in the door of the old barn, hundreds of bales in the dark cavernous space behind them, handing them down to us in the trailer, their eyes still bright despite the years, looking out at the 600 acres of fields and woods, typical New Hampshire operation with the maple sugar lines along the road and elk in the corral, diversifying. It makes you resolve to something, the flickering light in their eyes and the crinkly, leathery smiles. Don't know what, but something. Some day it's going to click and flow like water, effortless.