Putting A Pin In It
Image credit: Nick Seluk; theawkwardyeti.com
If you read my last post and then saw the title of this week’s post, you’ve likely surmised that we were not the lucky recipients of the piece of land we put an offer on a few days ago. (Insert bummed out face emoji here.)
Our realtor relayed this message from the listing agent (after our offer was officially not chosen): There were 18 offers. 14 of them all cash. Most of the 14 were WELL over asking price. Most of them had ZERO contingencies...
Yeah. So. It’s a jungle out there is what I’m saying.
I even wrote a love poem to the land we put an offer on, in an effort to send out good vibes, which I knew and felt was good medicine for myself at the time, regardless of the outcome.
Dear Piece of Land for Sale,
Strange as it feels to say, I was wondering if it might be possible to claim you for our own. (And I say strange because: does the land not belong to all of us and also none of us? I mean, can anyone truly own the shared ground beneath our feet, where roots and rocks form a road map underground, quietly connecting all beings great and small?)
I was hoping we, my husband and me, might be so bold as to become your caretakers for a little while. Please know we would do our honest best to take good care of you.
We’ve been looking for a long time. We’ve even managed to get close a few times, only to have our hearts broken when the answer was no.
I don’t mind telling you, dear Land, that it’s getting harder and harder to keep the dream alive. To do the work necessary for my heart to stay open and not close in an act of self-protection.
I reckon you’ll have a lot of offers. We are in good company with other sweet people also looking to fulfill their vision. I am not in the business of competition or one-upmanship. While part of me would like to present you with a list of reasons of why you should choose us over them, the truth is: I can think of nothing that separates us from our human family.
Still, to perhaps our credit, the poet in me wants to tell you:
When your evergreens sway
in rhythmic response to the wind,
we would listen.
When your creek’s belly
expands and contracts
in breathing pulse with the seasons,
we would match our inhale
and exhale in unison.
We would infuse with all
of our actions please
and thank you.
We would cherish you
knowing you belonged
to us; we belonged to you;
and you belonged to all
beings past & future,
two-legged & four-legged,
crawling & swimming,
rooted & winged.
This is me trying to prop
open my aching heart,
in hopes of calling you
towards us.
This is me wanting to
tell you we are here.
Waiting.
Ready to go all in.
With Love,
Nicole
As the title of this post suggests, Mike and I have decided to put a pin in our land search for now. We tried (hard!) this past year but ultimately the fierce competition, coupled with how few parcels are on the market that meet our criteria and budget, were victorious in edging us out this year. We are now officially enacting Plan B, which whittles down to: selling our house; flying south for the winter; returning & resuming our land search in the spring.
So I reckon this will be the last post I will clack out for a little while. Maybe I will drum up some words to share in regards to the slow moving river of Empty Mountain over the next couple of seasons and, ya know, maybe not. Please know that while we’re bummed to not have found land this past year, our vision and our dream of Empty Mountain is still very much alive and well. We will get some much needed rest and refueling over the next few months - and then watch out! We’ll be back like gangbusters come springtime.
RIP piece of land we just lost
You were the 2nd property we managed to put an official offer on this past year and the 4th property that saddened us to lose (as we would’ve put an offer on two other properties we saw but didn’t move quick enough on and/or were edged out by big money offers right out the gate)