Holidays are funny things. I seem to find myself dreading them in the lead up and get a weird anxiety about leaving the farm.
We've just come back from a few days in Marrakech, visiting a good friend of ours but before we left I just didn't want to leave. I'm putting it down to me being a complete control freak, which, I have to say, really surprises me about myself. I always picture myself being quite laid back about life and not worrying too much about the detail but that's obviously not right... Mind you, I also, most of the time, picture myself as a size 10 with perfect skin and that's far from the truth too.
But it really did catch me a little unawares this time. We were only gone for 4 days in total - hardly enough time for anything drastic to happen at all, and it's not even that, necessarily, that I worry about. We left the farm in the totally capable hands of the gorgeous Kay, who works part time at the farm anyway. She is responsible; she knows the farm inside out; the animals love and trust her and she knows that the polytunnel is the holy grail that must be kept moist at all times. I do love that word, don't you??... Moist... anyway, I digress. There is nothing that the farm can throw at Kay that she can't deal with, and I know that. It was more, however, to do with the fact that I would be missing it all happening. 'Like what??' I hear you ask, and I'm not too sure how to answer. I would of course, miss out on feeding the pigs as I would all the other day to day chores but I don't mind that. To be honest it is a welcome break to have a few days off. I think it's the fact that I know I would miss out on some of the more magical moments that happen when you do those chores that creep up when you least expect them and inexplicably make your soul sing. Like the morning dew shimmering on the cobwebs on the chicken pen; the evening mist settling gently on the brook; the sight of the first daffs coming into bloom; the earthy smell of the polytunnel whilst sowing the Spring seeds. And then there are those moments that you know are totally unique and special that you may never see again and are extremely privileged to have done so at least once. Like the dart of a Kingfisher flashing across the water or the deer grazing in the fields at dawn that are so close you could almost stroke them. I think it's moments like these that feed my soul and I worry if I leave the farm for too long it will starve and get all emancipated. (Can you tell I've been on holiday reading trashy novels???)
In true Lara fashion however, as soon as we are strapped into that plane, all is left behind and forgotten about until it's time to return. Marrakech was brilliant and amazing. It was a complete assault on the senses and I had my eyes out on storks most of the trip. Obviously, there were just as many amazing moments, if not more, out in Morocco. It was also great to catch up with an old friend and get to see where she lives and works. It was also great to realise that Park Mill Farm, as lovely as it is, is not the centre of the universe and there is a big wide world out there just waiting to be explored. If we should ever decide to leave this place I think that's what we'd do... just go and keep going. However, for now we are here.... and it's great to be home.