The Finale

January 28th

Pictures are back! I’m putting them up right now; I'll try to post as many as possible tonight, but they take a while and internet is slow here. Unfortunately, only one of three rolls came out. For some reason my camera decided it doesn’t like Fujifilm. Not too happy about that, but at least I’ve got these. Enjoy!

We’re on our last week here, the last leg of the journey. It’s been an experience, that’s for sure, and more and more I realize how blessed I am—to be here, to have friends like Gail, to have a family that so unquestionably supports me, and to simply be. Be here, be alive, be loved. It’s all such a blessing. I know I haven’t been writing much lately, but that’s simply because I’ve just been enjoying myself too much. You’d think a seven-hour manual labor work day would get old, and sure I want to go home and see family and friends, but man, it’s going to be hard to leave here. Which brings me to my fifth reason I got into all of this. It’s pure love, being here. There’s no real way of explaining it; for some people you get that feeling of all being well in the world from a job, from children, a spouse. Right now in my life, I feel like I get that from doing this, being around the animals I love with people I love. There’s nothing that beats a job like that. It’s funny, being here and realizing how little so many things mean in comparison to how much the little things mean. I’ve been eating the same lunch every single day, wearing the same clothes, have a constant and healthy supply of hay in my boots at any given time, and there’s generally not a steady supply of toilet paper here. Lucy barks non-stop until the wee hours of the morning, the guinea hens make sounds in the night that sound like rusty door hinges creaking in the wind, and yet…everything is right. I’ve grown to love this community, the people, the elephants, the land, the flaws. These people are here because they want to be, not because they have to be. That’s the difference. I’m surrounded by people who care about the same things as I do, and to a degree I haven’t seen in a long time. It’s refreshing to be around such genuine human beings. It’s good to know they’re still out there, you know? Even if it is in the bowels of this off-the-grid, population 549 Arkansas village. They’re here; they exist. It’s been a wonderful five weeks, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I may be coming home, but I’ll be going back. There’s no question there.