Settling In

We've met two of our neighbors who are deep back-woods people, definitely not lightweight weekend country dilettantes. They are a husband and wife team who rather interestingly live next door to each other, sharing 22 acres of land and a garden to die for. They are transplants from Santa Cruz, been living here for the past 27 years. They are a great resource for newcomers like us, and have been telling us all the wonderful little historical bits of lore that make our little neck of the woods the place that it is. How they came to be neighbors to each other doesn't seem to be out of any particular desire (as far as we can tell) to not live together, but the wife's intense love of gardening and neighborliness made her the heir to their elderly neighbors, who left her their 17 acres of land and little house when they died. So, she moved in. They are ageless, in that post-60s (not the era, the age) hard, but good life way. Earthy. Unpretentious.

Roger and I admired her garden every time we walked past it on the way to the mailbox. Her driveway shoots off the road on a curve, and it's hard not to miss the big GO AWAY sign she has posted there. So, we obeyed, hardly even willing to cast our eyes in the direction of her splendid garden. Then, one day, she came down the hill riding her garden tractor. She looked us over and said, "You're new on the road here, aren't you?"

"Yes, we are. We moved into the old Benton place. We've been admiring your garden."

"Hey you should stop by and I'll show you around, anytime."

"Really? Your sign made us feel like we shouldn't."

"Yeah, I know, that's just for the jerks who can't figure out that this is a driveway and not the road. Come by and I'll give you some day lilies for your garden."

We liked her right away.

A few times over the past two weeks she has walked over to our house with her little Jack Russell Terrier. She comes to take the dog and us for a walk. The dog is a new rescue who growled and groused on our first outing, but now just basically ignores us or actually somewhat likes our company. She has shown us the secret hikes we can take right out our front door. There's a reservoir not ten minutes from the house. From there, there are miles and miles of trails. Bear and coyote scat. Flocks of acorn woodpeckers calling from the pines. Here we caught the last open views of the Sierras before the oaks fully leaf out.

We feel lucky and grateful.