Hearth and Heart

Zoey and I like to go on mini road trips. We’ll make the run from Deer Harbor to Eastsound just to get ice cream. Well, partially for the ice cream, but mainly for the drive. Zoey is practicing driving, so now there is all the more reason to go. The other night, we drove to Olga and back with the sole purpose of driving to Olga and back. Zoey makes a playlist for the ride, we groove out and talk—about everything. This is one of my favorite things to do.

Three years ago, before I had a chauffeur, we were out driving on a cold December night. We left the Orcas Road and took the Crow Valley cut-off. It was pitch black, so it must have been overcast. I remember a thick fog hanging over the low part of the valley. We were cruising in the Mighty Ford Taurus, low and slow, when we started climbing toward the Crow Valley Road. Out of the mist, the barn came into view.

We were stunned. Either we slowed down to a crawl, or we stopped. I’ve been to the Notre Dame Cathedral, and I swear to you, I had the same emotional reaction here that I had there. What I saw was glorious. Coming out of the dark night, we found a true winter wonderland.

Hearth

Between the barn, the house, the fence, and the orchard, it wouldn’t surprise me if there were three thousand lights. Dripping icicles hanging from the barn roof– a twenty-foot wide snowflake centered over the hay loft. Big fat bulbs of all colors that go along five hundred feet of fence. Fifteen trees dressed in full-length fairy coats of tiny lights. The farmhouse is merrily outlined with another four hundred lights. This splendor infused me with the joy of the Christmas season.

No, I didn’t get out of the car to measure and count, but next year, drive by the farm yourself and see if you don’t have the same impression.

Heart

I’ve known the couple that owns this farm for probably forty years. The husband I met in high school when dinosaurs still roamed the earth. They are kind, generous, hardworking, and always ready with a smile and a laugh. I can only imagine the dedicated effort and perilous feats of altitude that this display requires.

Every year since then, Zoey and I make it a point to drive by several times just to see it. We are not jaded. We slow down to a crawl. Each time we go by, one of us says, “Incredible,” and the other says, “No kidding.”

I get it that this season doesn’t resonate with everyone. I border on cynical and curmudgeonly behavior myself. That being said, I’m a sucker for Frank Capra and Miricle on 34th Street. This farm has become a major league, mesmerizing enchantment that is easily on par with the movies of Capra and the nurturing of spirit that Miricle on 34th Street gifts me.

I offer my profound gratitude to this heartfelt tradition that has become, for us, an intrinsic part of welcoming the holiday with Hearth and Heart.

Thank you.