I could be watching a movie right now, but have chosen to write instead. I guess the modern amenities I used to enjoy have been boiled down to simply using my computer to write. This land is incredibly beautiful, even when the night sky darkens to only a moonlight's worth of brightness, so much so that it pretty much apprehends any desire to be anywhere else but totally immersed in it. I'm being beckoned now to sit in the meadow with my new friends and drink a beer, something that has become somewhat of a treat for us. It's amazing watching the group grow and change. It feels like I'm in college again, something I didn't think I would ever be lucky enough to replicate. Living in an intentional community feels right and I'm beginning to think it might be the way to go for the next few years. I was looking at a magazine today outlining the top ten communities based on various metrics, and a handful of them are in europe. I'd love to visit some of them, spend some time learning with some like-minded dreamers, maybe even share my own skills with them. Fred sits next to me and types. Someone plays the marimba downstairs. I sit upstairs in the main house, an open air porch with a front row seat to the coqui frogs that sing so loudly at night. Last weekend Nico and I went to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park and camped at an elevation of around 3000 feet. The dryness and elevation don't allow for many coqui frogs (which is probably good since they're invasive), and it was quiet all night. I didn't sleep much because I kept hearing other people in the campground and the nearby highway 11. It's amazing how quickly I've adjusted to my surroundings, sleeping among the natural sounds, waking in the beauty of a rainbow eucalyptus grove to the sunlight on my face or if we're lucky, the raindrops on the tarp overhead. I simply cannot imagine the sounds of the city buses, shoveling, or even the howl of the wind through my drafty windows at home being my waking calls. Everyone here asks why I would return to such a cold place, not understanding that it's where I have made my life, for better or for worse, but I still ask myself if it is where I will stay much longer. I do love my community at home, I love the beautiful people I have been so lucky to surround myself with, but it might not be the place for me in this era; I feel the need to continue my journey. Dona, one of the members here, once walked around with a list of needs; a constant reminder of what she actually needed for herself, from others. I am thinking of doing that, even though I laugh at the humor of the idea. Those are the random thoughts swimming around my head right now. I'm tired, I must away for a walk through the garden, past the composting toilet, through the path that attaches to the meadow space, over the hill by the pond, and to the rainbow eucalyptus grove that canopies my sleep space. The air is warm and wet on my skin as the night falls. The moon shall light my path. I am happy.