This is the farm across the street from us.  It is my favorite place to take pictures.  I love the geometry of the trees, the fences, the buildings, and the arc of Indian Mountain in the background.  When we moved here, it was busy with horses and cars and our friends rescued dogs.  Then the owners abruptly closed it down and now it sits quiet and forlorn except for a couple feral cats that we feed.

One of these, Mamacita, is the mother of Obadiah and Precious, two of her kittens that we managed to catch and adopt.  We caught her too and neutered her, but she is decidedly feral so we released her with a promise to take care of her babies and her as much as she would let us.  I went on Alley Cats and learned how to build a shelter, with fresh water outside and a warm bed inside.  We have never been able to touch her, even though she will come within a couple feet when we bring food out.

There is something about Mamacita and  the beautiful, empty farm that makes me think of the limits of our caring and of boundaries that we cannot cross.  This is not easy for me – I want to press myself into everything and gather everything to me, bring it under my emotional umbrella.  Today, I am aware of those lines that I cannot or should not cross – the places and the people that say “No further than this.”

As I write this though, I am devising ways to dance over those lines, even if just here, in my heart.