On the night before I decided to leave you, I told you that I had no desire to ever leave. For eight years I cared for you, and I loved you as a cherished friend, and together we cared for our friends. They visited us. They shared their lives with us through friendship, nurturing and pain. They stayed, and they called our home their own. My love for you was eternal.
I never cheated on you, and you never offered me more than your beauty, your history, your story, your tenderness in an ever changing world. You, my hearth, my demanding and giving place to call Home.
Life, they say, is what happens when you are making plans. And Life, in an instant, changed us forever. I knew that it would change you more than me. I knew that your charm would fade. Your tenderness would disappear.Your ties to our friendships would dissolve and be gone. You would become cold and efficient. Productive. Perhaps, to another’s eyes, you would become beautiful and cared for, but you would change dramatically for sure.
Now, one year later, I stop by to collect the remaining pieces of our past together. You are still a part of my past; but you are not a part of my future. I see the vision of your new caretakers; efficiency, productivity,industrialism, profit, and a different sort of caring.
Gone, the habitat of the animals that lived among your hedgerows and bramble. Gone, the hedgerows created by 175 years of farmers’ toil; now buried from the future. Maybe someday they will be resurrected again. Goodbye to the 150 year old apple trees I tended in the memory of those who tended them before me. Gone the branches for birds to nest, nooks for squirrels and raccoon. Gone, the little creatures that fed and were fed upon between the stones, vines, branches and grasses. No more place for the foxes and groundhogs. They must follow the coyotes to a new place, and hunt on livestock or for pets in their new homes.
Goodbye, to where my little hens roosted, the home of ducks that danced each morning to greet the day. Goodbye to the home of countless swallows; I’m sorry you flew so far to see your home locked and shuttered. Goodbye to the grave of my pal Arthur. You are with Ra, in the heavens, resting in His rays of sunlight. I can only tend to your grave in my thoughts.
Hello, Mayfarm Goodbye.