This is the house I now live in. It is an old farmhouse, circa I have no idea, and is connected to the barn at left. You can see the very nice screened-in porch that I'm sure I will sit in often.
This is the driveway out from the house, which meanders between fields, woods and salt marsh for a few hundred yards before coming out onto the nearest road.
This is the old, old farmhouse of the property, a type of house known as a salt box (I will have to take pictures of the backside to demonstrate what makes it a salt box. And I will probably be wrong), which is maintained in all of its historic grandeur for tours.
This is the view of the salt marsh behind the house, at an extremely high tide. Somewhere out there is the main channel of the Ipswich River. I should get a kayak.
The back of my new home.
A wild turkey.
More turkeys, rummaging in the lawn behind the house.
This is a more typical view of a portion of the salt marsh. You can see a slice of open ocean in the distance.
My room. A painting of Esme has the place of honor, on the wall and in my heart.
2 comments:
Seems like a great place to heal.
Thus begins your apprenticeship. Sort of a cross between the self-reliance of Thoreau and the sustainable small-scale agriculture of Wendell Berry. I've been reading the Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. Time to find a way to throw off the parasitic omnipresence of fossil-fuel fed corn and get back to a more natural natural history for feeding one's self and family.
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