Would we have found Tahilla Farm if Lisa hadn't written to me all those years ago? It's doubtful. But I like to think there was a little of Thoreau's subtle magnetism at work.
What began as a dream on a rainy afternoon in Vietnam eventually became our life here in New Hampshire.
And here I am, still wandering, still wondering, still finding things to write about.
Only now, I know where home is.
From Finding Tahilla Farm
