Road to Home

by Nada Andersen
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I’m noticing that it is becoming more and more unsettling to travel. My mind is not in the joys of the journey but more longing for the peace of my home.

This is the very different me; vegetable patch, stable plans, tilling the land, shearing sheep, the awkward things a village girl would do, not an urban chick like me. Still, every action has a deeply rooted reason, rhythm, timing. Expression of dire need and finite, ultimate blackmail: if you don’t do this now, then the consequence will be…

Why? The creation. Seeing that I maintain life, enable new life to be born and grown, change landscapes, colours around me. Simple pleasure of germinating something and seeing it arrive to its peak, to be picked, cooked, eaten.

It is a phase but a very rewarding one. Puts perspective to the choices I make. How long-term, how committed. Teaches immense patience. Opens eyes to microscopic beauty and microscopic power of a gene. Immerses you in life in a very simplified and straightforward way.

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