It’s not a large piece of land, but it’s home.
Have you ever walked onto a piece of property and known it was the right one? Or walked into a house and felt like you were already home? That’s exactly what happened here. Point 6 Acre was a homecoming.
I’ve always been able to overlay what I see in my mind’s eye with the physical attributes of a place — a sense of what it could become.
This small property felt full of potential. Always up for a challenge, I pulled up my sleeves and got to work. Trees came down, bringing in light and air. Towering walls of blackberry were tamed. A five-year plan was put to paper, and I doggedly worked my way through it. Then wrote another five-year plan.
With each project completed, each item ticked off the list, my life — everything in it — felt richer and more abundant.
For a number of years, the work alternated: one year focused outside, the next inside. Slowly, after considering which breeds of animals I wanted — and how many this small property could realistically sustain — the infrastructure took shape, and eventually the land was ready for animals.
Animals. Precious, steady creatures that fill my days with quiet satisfaction. The routines, the small moments — these are what make the work feel worthwhile.
This life has never been about having more. It’s about making something of what is here. Watching, listening, and working with the land and the animals. Following instinct. Building something that feels both practical and meaningful.
On a small piece of land, abundance doesn’t come from size. It comes from attention, care, and the willingness to work with what you have.
It’s not always easy. It can be exhausting, and at times challenging — financially and physically. It isn’t always comfortable.
But it is rich. It is full. And it is chosen.
I wouldn’t trade this small piece of land, or the life on it, for anything.
Warmly,
Brin
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Brin writes about the quieter lessons of small farm life – ducks in the morning, goats in the barn, and the slow work of tending a small piece of land. Between animal chores, soap making, and reflexology work, she reflects on what it means to live well, live simply, and discover what “enough” really looks like.