See: The translucent moon still lingering in the western sky, obscured sometimes by clouds. Reflections of those clouds on the pond. Pale yellow moths or maybe butterflies dancing on the breeze in front of me. Bees thick at the entrance to each hive, crowding each other, then spiraling out into the early morning pastels. The Pine Forest layered and bright behind the bee yard. Some of the trees in there stripped clean of their bark by rutting deer.
Hear: Chickens clucking and skittering through fallen leaves and pine needles. Roosters crowing when they find a meal. Daphne and Dusty giving those sweet, breathy horse ruffles. Behind me, nearer the smoke house, a menagerie of wild birds singing to each other in the tree tops.
Touch: Matted grass, wildflowers, and some short weeds on the sloped middle field where I sit. Light breeze on my arms. Goosebumps when Dusty sneaks up behind me and nuzzles my shoulder. I love that dang horse so much.
Taste: The last swallow of sweet, creamy coffee, no longer hot but still delicious. Something weird and tangy when I lick my finger, then I remember I groomed a tomato plant on my way downhill.
Smell: The sharp, grassy fragrance of dried manure, chlorine suddenly wafted down from the pool, and a new perfume: crushed larkspur seeds still on my fingers. Also pine needles and horse breath.
Feel: Overwhelmed and undeserving. Content and restless.
Think: Of the future, of the many wild, wonderful possibilities for our girls, for Handsome’s career, for this little farm… but also of how beautiful the present moments always are, of how good and strong life is. Of how powerful Love proves itself to be every single time.
