I spent the July 4th weekend at my family’s old farm place, mostly just relaxing, walking my dogs along the trails through the woods. It is a big place, with a lot of old wetlands and planted pines. There is very little actual farming done there, and that is done by a tenant farmer who leases it.
When I was using, I couldn’t be there at all. It is in the middle of nowhere, the actual house where we sleep is in the middle of the property, which is a couple of miles into the property past a chained gate. There is no ambient light from anywhere–on cloudy nights, it isn’t possible to see your hand in front of your face. The house is on a hill in a clearing surrounded on all sides by dense woods and a couple of scattered ponds. It is the perfect setting for a horror movie–no one can hear you scream, and even if they could, they would have a hell of a time finding or getting to you.
The thing that is most surprising to visitors is how incredibly loud it gets at night. Thousands (or tens of thousands) of frogs and owls and crickets and things that are indistinguishable to me (but a cacophony of howls, clicks, whistles, chirps, barks, warblings, etc) join together to produce a noise that would shame midtown Manhattan. Especially, midtown Manhattan at night–I’ve lived there, and while the city may never sleep, it does get very, very quiet.
Anyway, my paranoia was just overwhelming there. Walking outside, and feeling eyes from everywhere–every lightning bug a cell phone–made it impossible to sleep (without the aid of a lot of alcohol and ambien).
This past weekend the sky was perfectly clear. I could see every star–the sky was so big, and open, and I wasn’t scared at all, and was able even to laugh at my former fear. I let my basset hound pull me by his leash for a couple of hundred yards while he galumphed after an armadillo almost as big as him. We walked for miles, and we slept deeply, and for a long time, and woke up feeling alive.
This is freedom.