I can barely move. Every muscle is stretched to the point of exhaustion, but I feel such contentment. Each day Harmonia transforms even more ethereally beautiful, a swipe of vibrant wildflowers and hummingbirds spilling across the junglescape.
I get lost when my hands are in the dirt. Gardening in the jungle requires some form of OCD to make progress against the never-ending vines that cover the earth and trees. I spend hours sowing seeds, stacking wood, burning piles until the Sun passes below the mountain, allowing me just enough time to get home and walk my dog before dark — all of it a rhythmic routine that I happily repeat day after day, giddy with the feeling of accomplishment as I recollect my memories and photos of the land in 2015 and each succeeding year.
My friend Madison asked me how I will feel delegating some of these tasks in the future.
Relieved, but because Harmonia will be maintained by a professional staff, leaving me more time to enjoy the nature instead of raking cutting and weeding until the blisters on my hands become callouses. I am not afraid of hard work. I love the physical activity. My physical labor is an offering and a prayer to the spirits that brought me here. Nothing else in the world matters when I am inside the forest at Harmonia. In a world of constant motion, dirt grounds me.