We have been half looking for another property for a couple of years. Nothing urgent. The city keeps arriving a little closer, and every so often a listing shows up and we drive out to see it, and it is never the one. I wrote about this a couple musings ago.
Last spring we were up in the horse pasture doing some work. Fence, I think. Something unglamorous.
I straightened up and turned around.
There was downtown Denver, small and clean in the distance, and the whole front range standing behind it. I have lived on this land for thirty years. I have stood in that pasture more times than I could count. And my heart skipped a beat like I had never seen it before.
I probably had not. My back was to the view and I was busy.
That was more or less the end of the property search. What I understood standing there is that I had been looking for the place I already live on.
I say this as a woman who is very good at wanting the next thing. It has built me a good life. It also means I can walk past the best thing I own for three decades because I happened to be facing the wrong way.
Sacred Return happens on this land. Women arrive off the highway, and there is a moment, usually before anyone has said anything meaningful, when they stop talking and look out.
The horses are usually the reason. The view finishes the job.
You arrive carrying everyone else’s noise. You leave hearing your own voice.