I gazed out of my secret window today, over the mossy green patch onto the laurel forest that enshrines my gate to the outer world.
My gate is not an ordinary gate. It is a work of art and beauty hewn out of pitch pine and over 100 years old and painted a beautiful morning red.
This gate gives me chances to dream. I can dream from the comfort of the cottage through which I can travel worldwide on any airline. These dreams are such that I may live forever.
I can walk through the gate to inhale and view the breathtaking scenery of Connemara and this dream is to live this day as if it would be my last.
Then all of a sudden the mobile beckons and I answer peacefully to the voice at the other end. The amazing voice. The voice I thought was sent at this special moment to decorate my dream with the honey from the sweet scented heather of Connemara that was gently kissed through my gate.
The Mindful Farmer