This state of being refuses to leave
Luck. Fortune. Whether or not I’ve sought this out
All these incredible, inspiring people I meet
Barbara had wished for a wwoofer
And at her little beach I sat
If only she’d been more specific in her plea,
I’d have weeded the garden and picked pears from the trees
I had wished for a Grandma of sorts
In need of special care, with my independence still attached
Mine was granted 100%. Raspberries I’d picked, on top of vanilla ice-cream
Connections to Mongolia and a late night radio show about the American economy
Rick and Barbara, with their views of the lake
Stories of kayaking and hiking through Alaska,
And Utah by bike
One more brief encounter to write in this book
But time doesn’t seem to matter, no
With these kind of people there is no such thing
Rick and Barbara pulled in around 6pm last night. I climbed sheepishly out of my tent. “You have an intruder in your yard!” After quick introductions and an awkward moment trying to help them unload their car, I was picking raspberries for them, then drinking tea, then chopping vegetables for a pasta primavera. Mmm. And they are simply delightful. Rick is the quieter of the two, with Barbara having long, engaging stories to tell. I was so well fed and pleased to have such wonderful company for the evening. And this morning they’ve stuffed me full of berries, yoghurt and pancakes! I am one lucky traveller, yes I am. And now, a late start for my journey to Strahan!
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