This evening I got together with an acquaintance who has a high-end salvage company and who does auctions every once in a while. The business also happens to be next door to where I live now. We met up at my storage unit and he took much of the remaining furniture on consignment for the next auction. I got to the unit early to finally go through some boxes and sort the contents, a task that should have been done before they were stored but time was of the essence.
The sheep and the goats have been separated, one group of reorganized boxes stays with me, the other goes on to ... well, I don't know where yet but I hope not to the dump. As to which are the sheep and which are the goats? Does it matter?
I did take a few moments to listen to the spring peepers and I felt a sharp stab of nostalgia. I used to cherish those first songs of spring and where I am now is far away from such delight.
But beyond that, I was surprised at how unemotional I was at the decision to let go of the furniture. Pieces that had been part of my former home. I feared that I might be pushing myself into a slough of despond but I was clear headed and optimistic. And for that I am very very grateful.
Who knows what my future will be? Is there a home again in the country for me? A cozy fireplace? Spring peepers? A garden? I don't know and for today, where I am and what I have is enough.