Our Land…

We move tomorrow!

I can’t believe it’s been six months since we unpacked some of our belongings from storage and made ourselves at home in this apartment.

At the time I told Hubs I didn’t want to extend our lease beyond the six months and it was winter and pickings on the market were few and far between so our prospects were not very promising.

I handed it over to God and we began our search, driving for miles several times a week,

“God has found our perfect spot, he’s waving us over, we have to keep our eyes peeled so we don’t miss Him!” I kept saying to cheer myself up and encourage Hubs behind the wheel.

And sure enough we did manage to spot God way off in the distance beckoning us towards our future property.

The acquisition was a slow and drawn out task but here we are at last, our lease expires on Thursday and we move out tomorrow!

There have been renters in the house so access to our acreage has been limited but a couple of weeks ago I walked the  land and clocked a couple of miles along the perimeter.

I didn’t manage the very edges because it flexes its way beyond the fences and tree lines into undergrowth and its border on two sides is the creek,


that lazily flows singing prettily as it trickles along stepping over the stones and boulders in its path, running clear and cool, inviting me to sit and gaze and listen in solitude.  Perhaps some ducks may find their way along its peaceful meander.

My wellie clad feet stood up quite well in the wet and soggy grounds after the rains.  The pasturelands are lush and fresh and growing fast.

We’ll soon need a tractor.

There is some cactus, it wouldn’t be the south without these prickly pears.


Curious foaming bubbles cling to tall strands of grass (although this picture doesn’t do them justice),

LandSpit showing evidence of spittlebugs that take cover and stay hydrated in their gobs of spit!

I have my own honeysuckle weaving and coiling through my wild pecan and hackberries,


ready to release the fullness of their fragrant potential by the time I take up residence.

There is a pretty copse of trees in front of the house standing guard over my circular driveway.  Here I will plant daffodils, wildflowers and tulips under the shelter of their boughs for a display of color next spring.

Road runners dart across the fields as if they own them (they move too fast for a photo), rabbits hop gently behind losing themselves in the bushes.

From the back porch I watched as a Harris’ Hawk swooped low over the grass that cuts through to the bottom of the land and last week when we arrived a hawk lay alongside the gravel path in front of our barn, shot and killed.

Beautiful even in death.


My birding son said it was federally illegal to bring one of these national birds down and hubs buried it beneath the brush to decompose with the vegetation.

To one side of the barn is a little orchard with peaches, plums and an apple tree,


how exciting, the birds and I will share!

Bluebonnets dot the lane where we will be living,


and the paddock, well fertilized by the renters’  horses, is spread with a host of purple thistle that I have become accustomed to since finding them prolifically growing on the commons of England.


I am told both the thistle buds and dandelion flowers make a fine wine.  This year I’ll have to content myself with using the leaves as a complement to salad greens and wait for next year’s gift of blooms to try my hand at wine.

And what of the house?

That is a bonus for me, and it sits enfolded by the land in a warm embrace.

Tucked away near the back, unseen from the road, God called us over and we fell in love with our wild and quiet piece of God’s earth.

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