The first summer - June
Hygiene hails from Greek's hugiene "art of health". Hygiene is literally and figuratively ubiquitous: rain, showers, washing hands, purging the mind through meditation/prayer, and clearing land for shelter/food. Cleanliness and organizing remains the first duty of any task, of any day, of any being. Since moving here in early June and clearing the land of the junk, the remaining part of the the summer was spent weed wacking, mowing, grading, and leveling the land for clarity in view and understanding as well as making way for a storage building and a shop.
I asked the earth's and tree's permission to allow the sunshine to spread its negative ions over the property. With that agreement, my neighbor (a heavy equipment operator) took down a few Alders that eventually became mulch. The land breathed deeper after the clearing, thankful for the sunlight.
The pump house here in its raw stage without a roof - only tar paper on the sheathing - and no doors. The interior was full of stuff making the well water tank and filter inaccessible. Behind the pump house stood a family of Alders. They had outgrown the space leaning 45 degrees into the pump house and heaving for lack of soil to hold them down. When one came down, they all followed suit.
The pump house after the clearing, stain, a set of doors installed, and new roof. Concrete foundation forms to the left of the pump house for the shop floor with two pallets of concrete at the ready for the next day's pour. The shop will flank the pump house to the left and a garage on the right. The land was so hospitable and welcoming. I thank it every day for its beauty and generosity.
After pouring the shop floor, I stained the pump house, setting the tone for the monastery with a combination of deep brown and rich red. Both simple and vivid like a pine needle or the mind of Suzuki Roshi. While the concrete floor sat for 7 days, I graded and leveled the ground to the right of the pump house and framed the sun room that would eventually become a garage. Behind the pump house sits a 500 gallon rain water tank to catch runoff from both roofs.
Death and life are misunderstood concepts created by humans to grasp the unattainable. The birth of new construction on the right and the death of the Alders on the left give a balanced vision to this experience called life. This picture is just a peephole into my perspective. Seemingly innocuous, this view up the driveway toward the tiny house on the left and the shop/pumphouse on the right serves as a path to possibility; really, a road less traveled.
