I open the door to step on fieldstones that I have carefully placed, stone by stone to create a ‘patio’ of sorts out of what used to be an eyesore. First flooded waters sat there in mud, then on thin layers of gravel. Just outside my door. This one area roughly 12x 24 is the only flat piece of ground on this property. Water and ice just sit there forever. Winters have been hell.
About six years ago I put in a side door to escape the mountains of snow that slid off the roof burying the front door for 7- 8 months of the year. I shoveled the roof and path to this door for all the years I have lived here until recently. I gave up this practice at 75 for safety reasons after breaking my foot but was stuck with mucky ground. Worst for me was that the space was so ugly – the rest of this property with its winding brook, field and forested hills is astonishingly beautiful.
Even when I could use the front door I dragged in old leaves, mud, gravel and made myself crazy with housework which I despise. I could not keep the floors clean.
Continue reading “Cracked Stone: An Artist Works with her Muse by Sara Wright”
