Saturday, September 10, 2016

8.29.16 The swift river glimpsed



     Down by the farmers' fields, it was cool and breezy , and I walked along in my sandals and t shirt and jeans, tossing the ball, and watching the wind sweep through the corn and undergrowth and trees all along the river. 
     And I found myself remembering walking along last fall, when you just began to need a sweatshirt pulled close around you, when you had to make the jump to socks and sneakers. 
     I flashed on the frozen times of winter, with the almost intolerable cold and all bundled to a t, heading into the wind as the brash winter sun blinded across the snow and ice and everything was asleep and breathtaking. 
     Where the morning walk revealed exactly what creatures ran or climbed or swooped down and killed for their midnight meal. 
     It came to me, those days when the freezing rain coated the snow and down there while the pup raced and sniffed , I was complaining to myself about the snow and the cold, all the way down the deep snowed-in dirt road, til I'd come about, and suddenly the joy would split me wide open. 
     And the beauty and wonder and love would pour into me, albeit wind now at my back. 
     And I'd be amazed that no matter the suck in our lives, often there is such heart breaking loveliness.
     Today while I walked round the corner of the dirt road, with the corn towering over me and the swift river glimpsed through the forest, I came upon a pathway in the midst of the cornfield ,where small thistles grow, and despite the terrible dry spell, are putting out their blossoms perfectly well. 









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