Today I was trapped in the barn… paralyzed… completely unable to move for about seven and a half hours. Helpless and terrified. Because the batteries or something inside our motion detector emergency light sounds EXACTLY like a rattlesnake.
So, in the spirit of Redeem the Time, since my word of the year Strength had most certainly eluded me, I decided a Senses Inventory was past due. Anyway, the intensity of the situation had my senses all keen and in overdrive. Not writing this would have been a waste of the moment. I mean, it would have been a waste of the hours.
While standing in the barn like a New Orleans street performer** playing freeze tag, gripping a rake in one hand and an empty rubber bowl in the other, I took inventory. This is what I noticed…
See: Sand, dirt, loose hay, and a little buffalo fluff strewn about the floor. Five chickens seeking shelter behind the machinery. Wet shadows of dirt at the margins of the barn, soaking inward. A pile of colorful beekeeping supplies, waiting for the first tasks of springtime. Dusty four-wheelers. Loft stacked high with a collection of found lumber and other building supply treasures. That purple, black and white horse blanket we bought for the girls at the end of the last summer we spent together as a family.
Smell: Hay, dirt, llama breath (Romulus had just excused himself from a barn visit), and rain. Glorious, clean, refreshing rain. Motor oil and gasoline. Fear. I smelled my own fear.
Touch: Fast Woman’s silky soft coat and round, heavy belly. Her nearly prehensile tail wrapping around my forearm. Horse scissors between my knuckles. Nylon mesh netting peeling like Velcro away from the new round bale of hay. My running clothes pasted against me with sweat. I-pod cord draped around my neck. Cool breeze teasing in from beneath the east doors.
Hear: Chickens pecking and clucking secrets to each other, probably about wherever the heck they are all laying their eggs. Horses just outside the west door crunching their afternoon hay and breathing and snuffling that wonderful way that horses breathe and snuffle. An accelerating tap dance of rain on the metal roof. Rattlesnake.
Taste: The last trace of an orange I ate earlier. And dirt, just barely, probably form kissing the horses. I was a little sad to think that an orange and some dirt might be my last meal.
What’s going on in your world today? What are your senses revealing to you? If you hear a rattlesnake, I hope it’s really just a battery.
Soak it All Up
xoxoxo
*though obviously (and sadly) I was lacking silver or gold full body paint, a costume AND a devilish puppet…
Anonymous says
Need that gun with you next time!
Marie Wreath says
I don’t think I can run or do chores with a gun…LOL
New Every Morning says
Thanks for stopping by tonight! Loved this post… what a way to look for the best in the worst situation!
Marie Wreath says
Thank you! I have borrowed the original idea from Bohemian Twilight, now I love to write sensory observations of every day moments, really helps to slow down and also not be too serious… LOL
Dee Nash says
My goodness, that was good. I’m feeling my daughter next to me as she tries to grab my attention. Move over a little bit, I say, and I instantly regret it. She is growing up too fast.~~Dee
Marie Wreath says
Dee, thank you!! Oh, your sentence caught the breath in my throat… Sounds like one of those daughter moments that will stick with you, Momma. xoxo Hang on to it, and to her. Thank you for stopping by!
Nadya Booyse says
It is strange that strength has eluded you, as grace has eluded me. For most of the year actually. This 2nd baby is stealing my energy, but flooding me with hormones in exchange which means I am about as graceful as an angry mother hen. All. The. Time.
I have been trapped working on my MAC this whole weekend this far, repairing what I messed up. So feeling the heat of the machine on my lap, seeing the backlit screen, hearing the sound of the keys as I type along with the fan’s irritated buzz of having had to work for over 24 hours now. Touch… well, that goes without saying. And smell has been (strangely enough) muffins. Although it did not come from our house. So Sparky went out to get some. And that brings us down to taste.
Things will go a little better soon. I trust.
Marie Wreath says
Oh Nadya… I feel for you, I wish I could come to Africa and help you out in some way. Hopefully you’ll get un-tethered from that machine soon so you can enjoy the physical stuff and peace for a while. I think of you and your pregnancy pretty often, curious how you’ll incorporate yoga this time. xoxo Be well!! Hope you enjoyed those muffins!!
Laura says
I taste the dirt, feel the fear, enter into this time warp.
What eludes me is when is it ever,ever,ever not a waste of time to suck my tummy in for a photo?
I don’t travel much…
-Laura
Marie Wreath says
LOL! : ) Laura, I *want* to be sucked at all times, especially fro photos, but I always lose track of it. haha Thanks for time warping with me! xoxo
Teresa Ryan says
“the last trace of an orange” … triggered my imagination and sent me immediately to the store.
Marie Wreath says
Oooh glad to hear that… I am so loaded up on citrus right now. Oranges, grapefruits, lemons and limes… all of it. They have sustained me all winter. xoxo Thanks for reading Teresa!!