Sitting in the field on the farm, I can hear thunder rolling in the distance. A dark, grey cloud forms over the mountain tops to the east.
The sounds are much appreciated; it’s hot outside. The thunder is serenading me with the song of sweet relief. The sun is beaming down on me in the field and I can feel its warmth on my face. Wind dances through the long, dry blades of grass, moving in rhythm with the earth, with my soul. I am calm.
Grasshoppers do their thing, bouncing around amongst the grass. Aunts crawl around beneath me, carrying twice their weight back to their home beneath the ground. I hear the strange call of the sand pipers flying above me, talking to one another in their own special language.
My dogs come to join me, panting, it’s time to take a break from playing. It’s so peaceful out here in the field amongst the birds and the bugs.
These are the sights and sounds of summer. Sounds of peace. There’s nowhere I’d rather be but here in this moment. Enjoying all that nature has for me.
I decide to read the book that my mother in law recently gifted to me out of her own personal collection. I open to the first page to see a note from her and it tugs on my heart strings.
The book is called ‘Country Women’. A strong female voice, explaining how to do everything from purchasing land and digging a well to spinning yarn and raising a good flock of laying hens. Amongst all of the invaluable information are pictures and poems, so eloquent and beautiful. I feel as though this book was made just for me.
There are pictures of the author using a chainsaw, milking a cow and building a chicken coop all by herself. She is a strong lady, having lived a life similar to the one I picture for myself. A life filled with hard work, dedication, learning and love. She knows what it’s like to feel fulfilled. To feel heartbreak. To truly feel human. To connect with mother nature and relish in all things outdoorsy.
Turning to a page in the gardening section, I read a poem that rings true to me.
“Bare feet in wet soil
earth and air –
so much from one seed.
In my garden
I am a continual witness
of life, death,
beauty in a scarlet runner bean.”