Surprised by Joy

"If a man set out from home on a journey and kept on going, he would come back to his own front door." - Sir John Mandeville, 14th century

Feels like home on this little island. I do not have a house but this feels like the years of my early childhood on the rural land outside of Mooresville, North Carolina. Edisto feels like the 50's again. Simple things like needing your neighbors (and trust me, I do), the two lane roads, the garden, the great outdoors, and well, less STUFF. The last few years in the United States were a gilded age I suppose, with mansions and massages and money flowing everywhere. The Great Recession, as I hear them calling it, put some brakes on the love of so much stuff perhaps. It did it for me. Even I got carried away on ebay bargains. (I could curate a show on paint by number paintings of the 50's which charm me and make me smile with their great ironies) My bills are now just for the land and the electricity mainly: my monthly expenses have been reduced by more than half. I have a little savings, thank goodness, but mostly dreams for the future.

I am surprised by the feelings that being on the little island has engendered, however. It feels intimate and interesting, and satisfying. It is life at its basics. The sounds of nature, the amazing painted bunting birds at the feeder, the deer in the yard, the little tree frogs having bug dinner on the window of Rosy over my supper table. Good simple butterbeans and a fresh tomato for dinner. Surprised by Joy was the name of the book by CS Lewis and a poem by Wordsworth. It means new things to me today. In the heat of the summer, I am surprised by such a welcome as this.