The Wild Hunt (https://wildhunt.org/author/sheri/page/6)
Sheri Barker has been a solitary practitioner for nearly forty years. Her relationships with magic, elemental energies, spirits, and her ancestors are the foundation of her daily life. They enrich her work as a witch, writer, homesteader, wildlife enthusiast, gardener, and human being. She is a columnist at The Wild Hunt (https://wildhunt.org) and also publishes perspective essays on her blog at https://www.onthebearpath.com. Sheri lives in an ancient river valley in the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina, immersed in nature, spirits, and realms beyond this one. Oh, and books...there are always books, words, and creative activities to be explored!
That sorrow began to diminish when, a few nights after he died in October of 1974, I saw my Grampa LaPorte for what I thought would be the last time. I was 8 years old, and his was the first ghost I saw that I realized in the moment actually was a ghost.
Maybe it was a Kodachrome red, white, and blue history that never really existed, but I believed it. I do not care what was hidden behind the lessons because what I believed matters more. I believed in hope. I believed in an intelligent, reasoned love of country. I believed in the ideal of good and right prevailing. I believed in freedom for all.
I love to travel by car, train, or boat. Whether a planned trip or an impulse adventure, making the most of an opportunity to revisit familiar and well-remembered places or explore new settings always makes me happy. For me the journey itself is as important as the destination. Music, conversation, comfortable silences, roadside diners, scenery, and side trips to see an old cabin or a waterfall or a special little bookstore add immeasurably to the width of each adventure. Research into the historical and natural elements also plays a part, and my love of actual, in-my-hands folding maps and atlases sweetens the depths.
When I was a small child home was simply the house in which I lived. My parents and siblings were there, it held comfortable and familiar material belongings, and most rules and expectations were clearly defined. I was fed and cared for and most of my needs were provided for. I really did not think about how to define home because I did not know anything else. For a time, I just accepted that the environment my parents provided was what home was supposed to be. There is no clear point that I can remember when that began to change but change it did.
“Creating a homestead from scratch is a long, slow process, especially for someone with very little practical experience as a gardener, zero experience with livestock and water management, and limited financial resources. At least it has been for me.”