In the Quiet Middle
Morning light over The Essex Ranch, the quiet stillness before the day begins.
Somewhere between the dust and the dreams, time slipped by.
It’s been a while since I’ve written, not because I haven’t wanted to, but because building a dream takes time. A ranch, a home, a vision… none of it comes quickly, and somewhere along the way I’ve realized that’s part of the story too.
There are stretches when the process feels slow, and then suddenly it feels fast, and then… it doesn’t. There are days I think about sharing the small, mundane details of construction… the weeks of wiring, plumbing, or waiting on one more delivery… but honestly, there’s not much of a story in the dust. Or so I used to think.
When I first started The Essex Ranch, I imagined that the real story would begin once it was all finished… once the greenhouse was overflowing with greens and flowers, once the animals had found their way home to us, once the last window was polished and every light flicked on. I still look forward to those chapters, but I’ve come to see that there’s meaning in this in-between too.
This season of waiting, of planning, of fixing what doesn’t quite work… this is where patience is built.
Becoming Alongside the Build
The barn frame rising, proof that even in the waiting, the work continues.
I’ve always been drawn to instant results, the quick before and after, the satisfaction of a thing complete. But this process has asked something different of me. It’s teaching me to slow down, to sit in the process itself, to find gratitude in the work that isn’t glamorous or finished.
I’ve also learned that I’m uncomfortable in the waiting… truly. Shon, on the other hand, seems at ease with it, trusting the long view. I can see it too, but I still find myself restless. It’s an interesting difference between us, one I admire in him.
Just like the foundation of the house, I’m learning to build myself stronger, layer by layer, anchored in faith that what’s unseen now will one day hold everything I’ve dreamed of.
The Progress and the Pause
The main house taking shape, with every wall marking another step closer to home.
From another angle, the view feels even more tangible, the bones of a dream coming to life.
The roof is complete, and the siding, already finished in color, is being installed. The windows are all in place now, and we’re simply waiting for the masons to return and finish the stonework. Inside, the sheetrock is up, and the rooms are beginning to take on their own shape and life.
The barn frame continues to rise, slow and steady. The wells have given us a few challenges… it’s hard to bathe when the water smells like sulfur… but that, too, is being resolved. Each step forward reminds me that progress doesn’t always look grand. Sometimes it looks like patience.
Where I Find My Peace
My quiet company at sunrise… we both showed up in stripes.
Most mornings, before Shon wakes, I slip on my Le Chameau boots, pajamas and all- and make my way up the hill. Out here, with no one around, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing. The sun peeks over the horizon, soft and golden, and for a few quiet minutes, everything feels suspended.
I’m usually not alone for long. The squirrels have opinions about my routine, chattering their morning complaints before settling into acceptance. Occasionally, a deer crosses my path, and I stop to give it the right of way. More often than not, it stops too, and for a moment we watch each other… me observing the deer, the deer observing me… each of us quietly curious about the other’s place in this land.
Shon and his team have cleared new trails, and Ladybird and I explore them together. She leads the way, darting ahead with her usual curiosity, while I follow behind on the ATV. There’s peace in the rhythm of it… her joy, my quiet, the hum of the land waking up.
The Lesson in the Lull
The truth is, I’m still building, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. The ranch is coming to life one layer at a time, and so am I.
The foundation is strong. The frame is rising. The story is still unfolding.
And even in the quiet middle, especially here, there’s beauty in becoming.
The sun always rises, and I’m learning to rise with it… grateful for where I am, hopeful for what’s to come.
If you’ve ever found yourself in a long middle, you’re not alone.
Still rising with the sun,
The Essex Ranch
The sun always returns… and so does gratitude for where we are now.
