Kate Oliverのインスタグラム(birchandpine) - 6月18日 01時33分

“How long would it take us to wire in the new brakes and install the water pump?” Ellen looked up from where she was cleaning out the composting toilet, a typical, once a month Saturday morning chore. I’d been sitting in my camp chair, staring at the new shoots of sorghum in the wheat field. They’d cleared the wheat and cycled to the next crop. I couldn’t sit still a second longer, my skin felt foreign. The very act of sitting felt too complacent and strange. “A few hours, maybe more.” “I want to go. Just get out of here for a few days. You in?” We used to do this, back when we weren’t tied to deadlines and locations. We drove to Alaska on a whim, against all advice, and it was one of the most beautiful experiences of our lives. We’d up and go and be free.
I’m back sitting in my camp chair today, yet now I’m some 6000 feet high on a mountain, coffee in hand and the wind is pushing through the juniper and spruce and pine, and the sound is almost foreign it’s been so long since I’ve heard it, but my skin feels just right.

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