Peace of Green Fields - 2019

Every family, and I guess by definition every relationship, possesses a secret language, an intellectual and emotional shorthand, that plays a role in the constant narrative. Naturally, my son and I are no different, and our shared language is made up of references to Haruki Murakami novels, bad science fiction and monster movies featured in Michael Welden's Psychotronic Guide to Film, and passages from Marcus Aurelius's Meditations. I was thinking of Marcus's reminder that the peace of green fields is always within us when I spent the other afternoon helping (well, mainly sitting around chatting) my son plant flowers at his place out in Colchester. He's always been an amazing person, and he's now grown into this remarkably thoughtful, grounded and caring man, and I'm so proud of him.

He decided to rent this A-frame for the year, which seemed like a bit of silly idea in January, but turned out to be a brilliant one. It's right on the lake, and also features a bomb shelter that had not been opened in years (and that's a separate post in and of itself because, as you might expect if you know my son, he talked his landlady into letting him explore).

The dock right by his house. From the end of the dock you can see both Mount Mansfield and Camel's Hump. I love the fact that he just decided that living on the lake would be a cool thing to do for a year. Not to make too much of an over-used Joseph Campbell line, but he does follow his bliss in a way that I admire more every year. He has a courage I've never possessed.

My contribution to the project was buying some of the flowers and mulch, which a very aging parent thing to do (it makes us feel that we're still a part of the lives of our completely self-sufficient children).

And his garden, replete with drift wood borders.

The peace of green fields.