A Dream

I want to live on a farm, by the Atlantic. There something about this that just captures me so much. I mean, I love oriental or middle eastern history and culture but to be honest, my heart tends to lean more towards Celtic folklore/highlanders/Saxons/Britons/ et cetera. I’ve always been in to that thing, ever since I was wee one.

The thing with a farm is that yes, I do realize that having a farm is hard work because many of my uncles run them, but I still want one. It has something to do with my view of what I consider simple, more or less. I would like to have that little farm house, with a few chickens, some sheep, a cow or two for milking, and then a large vegetable garden. A large clothing line hung with clothes that blow in the wind, or ones children playing in the fields.

I want my children –insha’Allah- to be able to come home and feel safe, free of the pressures of the outside world. I want them to be able to run freely, to play, and I want them to learn the value of hard work and simple living. I want to be able to go to where there’s a lot of people and hustle-n-bustle but then be able to go home and have that nice quiet, and tranquility.

Go back to basics, so to speak. I love nature and therefore love to be immersed in to it. I love large apple trees –actually trees of any sort-, wild flowers, rain and wind. I love rolling hills, flat fields, mighty towering mountains and the endless dream of the deep blue ocean.

I find that more then anything I have a heart for the Atlantic and all it’s cool, temperamental history. I love it when you wake up and there’s that strong salty smell in the air, or at night –or any other time- when you can here its turbulent waves crashing against cliffs, or rocky ledges.

There’s just something about that life that I always wanted. Will it be better, I don’t know, but it’s is my dream.

I told this to my younger brother one day while we were on our way to do pick up some supplies, and he sort of looked at me crazy, and then more or less said, “Good-luck finding a brown boy that wants that.” Then he went in to this big debate about compromise and having to more-or-less put your dreams aside. I looked at him incredulously and said “Oh, and you’ve married how long?”

Then laughed, seriously I don’t care, a girl can dream dammit!

Good day to you.

~Pink Gerbera~