My Home -- A Magical Place
I’m realizing that I have been placed in this pretty magical place -- my little trailer, my little yard, my little mobile home park, the mountains that are just right. This magical, tiny little spot is not perfect, of course. It’s in the world. And we’re just a stone’s throw from a major highway, and the sirens and the motorcycles come by, but by and large, there’s a lot less noise than what I experienced in a much more populous city where I was surrounded by hospitals and a fire station and a police station. It’s really different for me now in this smaller community.
My yard is a magical place. Right now I’ve got all my Easter stuff up, and a couple of lighted, animated bunnies who tip their hat and lift the carrot, and I have all of these other wonderful little statuettes and things that I have found in unlikely places, and somehow they have all ended up here, and I came into my place tonight and I just stood there thinking, “Oh, how I love coming home to this little magical piece of land.”
This place has its frustrations, but where else could I be in this world at the age of 66, being who I am, and have as much privacy and quiet and magic all around me? I have a player piano, which plays for me because I can’t play the piano, and record players and tape recorders that have this world of incredible music that I love and that I can retreat to every day, and not have to listen to the noise that’s called music today. And this has come together in this little special place that is mine, and I don’t have to share it with anybody. I can, when I want to, but I am so grateful that I don’t have kids and grandkids and dozens of cousins. I’ve got my dear brother, who I see three or four times a year, and we have a wonderful time when we’re together, and I know he would do anything for me.
I hate this world in so many ways, and I’m so enamored of it in others, and the images that it gives me of a loving Creator. If it’s like The Matrix and I’m sleeping in some kind of a nest and being pumped up to be consumed one day, then fantastic, because I’m having a wonderful dream.
My yard is a magical place. Right now I’ve got all my Easter stuff up, and a couple of lighted, animated bunnies who tip their hat and lift the carrot, and I have all of these other wonderful little statuettes and things that I have found in unlikely places, and somehow they have all ended up here, and I came into my place tonight and I just stood there thinking, “Oh, how I love coming home to this little magical piece of land.”
This place has its frustrations, but where else could I be in this world at the age of 66, being who I am, and have as much privacy and quiet and magic all around me? I have a player piano, which plays for me because I can’t play the piano, and record players and tape recorders that have this world of incredible music that I love and that I can retreat to every day, and not have to listen to the noise that’s called music today. And this has come together in this little special place that is mine, and I don’t have to share it with anybody. I can, when I want to, but I am so grateful that I don’t have kids and grandkids and dozens of cousins. I’ve got my dear brother, who I see three or four times a year, and we have a wonderful time when we’re together, and I know he would do anything for me.
I hate this world in so many ways, and I’m so enamored of it in others, and the images that it gives me of a loving Creator. If it’s like The Matrix and I’m sleeping in some kind of a nest and being pumped up to be consumed one day, then fantastic, because I’m having a wonderful dream.
posted by Old Timer at 2:27 PM
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