back at the farm

I spent a month here at the blueberry farm in Sebastopol three years ago. Some things have changed. There are new houses now. Food is prepared in a cook house, and we sleep in safari tents down by the big pond – the pond which is about twice as big now as what it was last time. There are more than twice the number of wwoofers. But the bed in my tent is the same as the one I slept in when the wwoofers slept in the barn. I even have the same sheets. The daily routine is the same. And the smells. Dry grass and blueberries.

I took a swim at noon. Troubles, the dog, came to keep me company. And in the water, small heads kept on popping up. It was me, the turtles, and Troubles. And Max, the German-Brazilian wwoofer, playing guitar in his tent. A nice way to live.