In
my life,
there've been places in which I've lived which while charming, were
just rest-stops along the way of
my hejira.
And by that I mean I unpacked and hung my clothes there, showered
there, did my laundry there, ate and
slept
there but as a base‑camp only, from where to
venture out in sorties to visit other destinations.
Cowboy Cottage
put a stop to that modus operandi. A holiday-maker visiting
in the area said to me "This is a desirable vacation destination.
But you already live here, and in this
amazing cottage
too! Where do you go on vacation?". I paused, oddly
having never once
considered
that before. Then I said "I don't, I'm already here.".
C'est vrai! It's true. This ain't no ordinary
location. This ain't no dourly traditional
base-camp-for-living house from which just to sally
forth, get entertained, explore
the world,
then to return to afterwards. The amazing
Cowboy Cottage
is itself the journey's end, the experience itself to be realized,
the destination in and of itself.
Cowboy Cottage
comes with its own alarm clock: the rising sun. It also has its own
24 / 7 / 365
movie channels: look out the windows. It abuts a cattle pasture's
150 acres with an endless parade of wildlife visitors, occasional
horses, cows, reptiles of all descriptions, and a babbling Cayetano
creek, rest-stop for migratory water-fowl.
This is my beckoned home, this fortuitously manifested
one-room cottage,
this Walden. Soon it'll have been my home for longer than
any other place on
the planet.
Some aver a "Walden" is a place to retreat to find the meaning of
life. But given that life really has no meaning, that it's
empty and
meaningless,
and it's
empty and meaningless
that it's
empty and
meaningless, what
shows up
at the amazing
Cowboy Cottage
is inspiration to express it, live it,
celebrate
it.
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