We live in west central Arkansas. It is the end of August, the end of the driest month of summer. It is 3 o’clock in the afternoon. I walk out in the yard and
make my way to the gardens. The lawn is still WET with morning dew.
It is the end of August, in Arkansas, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
I ponder on this one.
Under the shade of the old maple tree, a shade that covers both a portion of the back lawn and the front of the barnyard, divided by a fence, the farm animals are all quietly cohabitating during their afternoon siesta. Two beautiful, healthy cows, four flashy dairy goats, several bunnies in their cage and Biscuit the guardian dog are all relaxing or asleep, while a small flock of chickens are busy scratching the earth around them, in search of insects and worms. It’s a comforting sight. The farm family is content. For the moment.
I move from garden to garden, just looking, checking for anything and nothing at all, just enjoying the flowers (loathing the weeds that appear nearly as fast as they are yanked up) and being grateful for all we have here. The weather is warm but not too hot and even the soft breeze feels good against the skin. Hummingbirds are flitting here and there, chasing each other as if saying to one another, “Catch me if you can.” I notice that some are very tiny and assume that they are this seasons hatch. They enjoy the nectar from the garden flowers as much as they are attracted to the feeders. This makes me smile.
I recall the days when I didn’t have the time, or take the time, to watch and wait and see everything in my life that was just naturally morphing right along.
Two grandchildren live close by and it is that time in life when I must show them the baby birds that are hatching in a nest in the flower pot. I take the time to help them catch tiny frogs and toads that play in the moist garden beds. Then we rest while taking turns swinging on the rope and wooden swing under the old oak tree.
In a few days, two other young grandchildren will be here to visit and I will once again show them some of the wonders of nature and the beauty of the farm. Morning and evening farm chores are the highlight of their visit. Feeding the hens and gathering eggs are at the top of the list.
I will take it all in and capture these things in my heart so as to remember, in my older age, how the farm and the gardens and our Grandchildren were all beautifully morphing right along, in God’s good time and in mine.
~ Gwen of IRISH ACRES
