Inside, Outside, Out-There-Side
Being In Place Weekly Practice: June 8th-June 14th
As I move between my work and life in town and moments of exploration and pause in connection within the natural world, I’ve been thinking about the porous boundaries between “domestic” and “wild,” “inside” and “outside.
Monday, June 8th Entry: This weekend, Scout and I went for a long ride up the draws on the far south-eastern section of Pilot Hill. As much as I love and appreciate the trail system, I was glad to leave the developed trails paths for those written only by the passage of feet—antelope, deer, elk, the occasional horse or hiker. Quieter, slower than the built trails, they travel differently, even closer to the place as it is.
Tuesday, June 9th Entry: The last two days have been aggressively windy, but the nights have been cool. With the wind blowing through the windows, the house feels like an extension of out-there. It brings pollen and dust as well as fresh air and sweet evening smells. I consider it a fair trade.
Saturday, June 13th Entry: Scout and I headed high up Pilot Hill [again] today. The morning started windy but turned off beautiful for a few hours before the wind reared up in force again. It was from the east, and we had to go straight into it for the last half hour. Tonight, I found a tick on my neck and have had the “crawlies” ever since. Sometimes, being out in it is rough indeed.
Sunday, June 14th: We fenced a small segment in the backyard today, where I hope to start a patch of sunflowers. They grow well in our red dirt, but the deer love their early blooms and the nutrient-dense seed heads. My vision is to start enough for a self-sustaining group we can share with the deer—I love the bright flowers but want to offer the literal feast to our hoofed neighbors.
At the barn where I keep Scout, the recently installed some mirrors in one corner of the arena to allow folks to monitor their riding posture, sort of like you might see at a gym. Scout was intrigued and concerned. Perhaps she thought the reflection was another horse and was perplexed about not being able to touch or smell it. Or, perhaps she was taken with her own image. I like both interpretations.
What I’m Reading, Writing, Watching, Listening To, and Thinking About This Week
Lately, I’ve been thinking a great deal about Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass and the idea of living a life grounded close to the earth and animals, one founded on reciprocity and gratitude.