It's a beautiful night outside. Last night was beautiful, too. The heat has broken and there's a light, cool breeze.
Last night I lay on the hood of the truck with my back against the windshield, watching the Perseid meteor shower. Our skies here are so clear you can very clearly see the band of the Milky Way across the darkness of the night sky.
For many years I lived in Los Angeles. All day long I was surrounded by noise, soot, and a crush of humanity. I love people and I appreciate them as my brothers and sisters. But my time spent in the big city made me love them less and I longed for solitude. Maybe it's the sign of a true introvert, the need to spend time alone and recharging my batteries.
Today my friends posted beautiful pictures of tropical resorts. "Who wants to be here?" they asked. Not me. I can't think of anyplace I'd rather be than right here, on my little quarter acre full of life. There is less life on it these days, as we continue to do battle with drought. I cleaned out some of the growing beds today, acknowledging defeat. I can't keep them all alive. But I will not give in when it comes to my fruit trees. If I have to water my figs all night long I will.
It will rain again. I know it. Today's rains passed us by as did yesterday's storms. Not a drop fell. But this is still my little quarter acre and I defend it, one bucket of greywater at a time.
Thanks to everyone for their support and their prayers. We're almost to our first Indiegogo goal. As soon as we reach it I'll order the weed barrier and start preparing the ground for next year.