It’s like being in my own little space-ship, my own sixteen foot diameter UFO, spinning on its axis, floating and hovering above a secluded valley unseen by the outside world. And inside my little craft where, when the outer door is closed, the only window looks heavenward, there is no real ‘out there’ apart from the sounds of the weather and the occasional creature.
At night when the light is dim I’m surrounded by the flicker of candlelight, the quiet roar of the wood-burner, the rustle of the canvas as windy fingers tug, the patter of rain, although recently it’s been more thunderous, and my thoughts. There is little else to distract. None of the usual suspects like TV, internet, children, pets. Just my thoughts – my imaginings – and me.
Coming back after a family and friend-filled Christmas which was wonderful I wondered as always if I’d heave a sigh and think oh no, not back here again, but not at all. It was a sigh of relief in a way, to be back out in this rural idyll. The night sky on New Years Eve was radiantly awesome. No light smog to dim the twinkle of the stars in their constellations spinning slowly above me. The rain held off, the clouds parted and I felt I was being given a gift from the divine.
At night when I’m coaxing the best out of the wood burner, waiting for the kettle to boil and trying not to burn a jacket potato too much inside the fire itself I think of all the things in my life which brought me to try out yurt living for the winter. Little House on the Prairie and The Waltons have a lot to answer for even though there is no John Boy to say good night to here. And even though I sometimes feel like I’m ‘playing house’ in this little round fabric and lattice-worked Mongolian creation I also feel like I’ve grown up! Is that an odd thing to think at the ripe old age of 60?
Enjoy the birds in the second part of the video – they are so delightful to watch.