Mon. Sep 25th, 2023

RhodieAcross the way, the sun peeks orange over the hills, and just outside my window a single flash of magenta on the rhododendron. It is cold here this morning. Colder now at 7 than it was at 5, when I got up. One of the advantages of a wood stove is the joy of cutting the morning damp with a small fire.


It is so chilly the cat stayed on my bed an extra hour, and the Ducks have not yet begun to quack to go out. The lush leaves of the Maple trees have once again shielded my view of the neighbor’s house, and sunlight filters green and gold through to the freshly mown lawn. Birds flicker to and from the feeders sprinkling wasted seeds for the chickens to clean up later, and the squirrel waits beneath the nearest tree.

The garden lies concealed under a light tarp to protect seedlings from the promised frost, which did not come. As soon as I finish my coffee, I will adorn myself with jeans, t-shirt, sweater and shoes, and go outside to unwrap them for the day. I have plans to paint the porch while the family is away for the holiday weekend. While it will be just me to remember to use the other door. Somehow I must keep the chickens and turkeys from marring the job.

There are so many prospective jobs in the beginning of summer, it’s hard to choose which one to do when. Which one do we have the materials for, or can we afford the materials for. What can we do with the labor we have at hand at the moment and the time. Time is such a big factor. Do I have the day stretching out ahead of me and the chance for a good night’s sleep or must I be somewhere, too soon, clean, dressed appropriately. Unlike youth, I have to save a part of myself to function in public when the time comes.

Chairs are scattered across my landscape. A rocking chair on the porch, a wooden chair under the trees amidst the gardens, a seat of logs beside the fire pit, that welcomed log in the woods where I can rest for a moment to stretch my back before accomplishing some other small task.

But for now morning has creeped over the hills, blossoming green and gold with possibilities, with prospects, beckoning hope, encouragement, ambition.

By AFarmer

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