In the Moonlight & Down in the Dirt

It was our last night in our southern Utah home -- the home we built, almost every piece with our own hands: the adobe mud block walls, brick floors, tile counters, wood ceilings, and hand-plastered walls. The brick and stone pathways and gardens have welcomed many guests to our door over our 42 years there. Perhaps you were one of our cherished guests.

Walking the gardens under the full moon, reflecting on our life in the high desert, I thanked the trees we planted. Once spindly saplings, many now reach 60 feet to the stars and give respite shade in the heat of summer. I thanked the birds and deer that visited our yard. I thanked the earth that nourished our children as they grew in this natural setting. This home has been a nest, a refuge, and a sanctuary. And I am grateful.

Tonight, that same moon will light our new home in central Portugal in the fullness of October beauty and bounty. As the earth turns, this same moon will shine on you, our friends and family, on another continent. I hope you step outside, savor its gentle beauty, and know that we send our love to you with tonight’s full moon.

Digging in dirt, planting seeds, and nurturing vegetables and flowers has been a joy and a creative endeavor for me. Maybe not in the artistic sense, but in the co-creating of life. And so, it begins again in our new home.

We are digging through the first 12 to 18 inches of dirt in front of our patio, unearthing relics of past lives. In a way, the patch of soil is a form of midden. Each turn of the soil reveals chunks of past lives and relics of old stone houses: fragments of wall plaster, broken clay roof tiles, a rusted iron hinge, square iron nails, decorative tile, glass bottles, and a hand-painted ceramic sugar pot that sweetened many coffees.

As my understanding of the Portuguese language improves, I look forward to hearing some history about the property and stories of the people who were here before us. Someone mentioned that our rehabilitated house once was the home of landlady Dona Luisa’s grandfather. Did he build it with his hands, stone by stone? Or inherit it from his grandparents? As I dig out relics of their lives, I imagine her ancestors and honor them in my heart.

Some of you have asked for photos and more details of our house. I think I will feature one area at a time. Today you see the garden in the making. In a year we hope it will be abundant with flowers and vegetables, giving joy and nutrition.

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