Gypsy girl...

Release the Autumn Gypsy,

O golden harvest moon

She longs to paint the season,

Rich in festive ornate hues

Jack Frost comes to play for her,

a cheery little tune and dance with Autumn Gypsy,

beneath the harvest moon

She'll play her Spanish fiddle and sing folksongs

tonight she’ll dance the Flamenco beneath the pale moon light

For tomorrow brings the close to another harvest season

her work here is complete without sorrow she’ll be leaving

Tis a gypsies life of travel to and fro never staying long,

but working as we go

A culture rich with lessons, music, dance and folksong

and families that bond together down the roads they travel on

Release the Autumn Gypsy

 O golden harvest moon

 Its time to paint the season for the Gypsy leaves here soon

 

(Written by Arcticbreeze)

In the land of the wolf

The Gypsies of nineteenth-century Spain travelled the countryside, carrying all their belongings in covered wagons and pitching tents wherever they stopped...
 

For Gypsies, travelling is not a pastime or leisure activity, but a way of life. In fact, a common belief of the latter part of the nineteenth century suggested that the inclination to travel, called “wanderlust,” was a product of genetic determinants.  And thus, the world passes by outside our gypsy caravan... through mountains and fascinating wildlands...

This weekend, our caravan came to a temporary stop right at the home of grizzly bears, wolves, and herds of bison and elk--a place called Yellowstone. The park is the core of one of the last, nearly intact, natural ecosystems in the Earth’s temperate zone and definitely one of the most amazing places on earth to visit.

When you venture down a trail, you discover wonders not many people who drive get a chance to experience.  Wildflowers are everywhere... yellow violets, strawberry, pasqueflower, arrowleaf balsamroot, phlox, paintbrush, lupine, low larkspur, sugarbowl, biscuitroot, and forget-me-not to name a few. Bears, love to roam amidst the many flowers carpeting the lush and magnificently green landscape with spots of color.

 

But the weather is fickle in the mountains. It can be sunny one minute, and cold and snowy the next. It rained all through the day on our first day, making people run for shelter while conceding an idea of the power of large wild animals...
 

It was pouring down rain when we got back at our camp... water formed some enormous puddle under your gypsy caravan, but the reality is that rather than feel miserable, I was static with excitement... camping in the rain is a beautiful experience... I love the music rain make on the roof of our gypsy caravan.... love the rain smell that comes through the windows, love making simple food in simple stoves and just sit to watch the water fall outside.

 

But the best of best comes later as night falls ever so slowly over the camp and the sound of rain intensifies above the silence... I love snuggling with my hubby, cozy, warm, and dry in our gypsy caravan while listening to the rain... I love to wear big puffy warm comfy PJs that matches with the colors of my bed and read my favorite books by the warm light of pretty candles.

 

 

 

I love it... love it all—cozy sleeping in colorful gypsy caravans, rain songs, the cry of the wild, its howl, wail; each road trip, each adventure. Perhaps life; bigger than all of us, will soon be taking us to new unfamiliar places, to new people and new spheres, but wherever life may be taking us, I hope and pray that we can continue enjoying our sense of wonder and wanderlust...

 

Good night my friend!