|08/12/2016||Posted by Jane under bits and pieces|
I sat out in the grass today, in my parents back yard. Just a towel, and Annie, and a water bottle. I wanted my feet on the ground and a rest in the sunshine.
My skin drank in the sunbeams, the grass quenched my tired feet. Annie lay beside me … panting. I don’t know why she didn’t move to the shade. But really ~ I do know why.
White clouds outlined the green trees in the distance … I wondered if it was a halo, or, yes, the dense white clouds did really seem to mimic the tree line against the deep blue sky. Duly noted ~ I was glad I didn’t have my phone to take a picture. I didn’t want to miss a minute of outside.
I rested, then wiggled about a little … the itsy bitsy ants started to bite, and I flicked a few spiders from the towel. Still, it was heavenly. The warm summer breeze eased the heat of the sun. The breeze ~ the sound of the bugs and birds so familiar.
Picking at soft, wide blades of grass I remembered sitting in our backyard as a girl … all of our best childhood friends nearby. In the shade of our favorite maple tree we’d pick wide blades, stretching them between our thumbs and blow. The whistle always unpredictable, and mostly delightful. We’d try to do it better, or louder, or however we thought we needed back then. Today, it caught Annie’s curiosity. After a few whistles her wet nose nudged its way in.
I plucked blades of tender grass, and noticed others with jagged dried tops the mower left behind earlier this week. I left them to grow.
I eased around so that the sun was on my left side, just listening to the bugs … knowing the breeze. Recalling the porch between Flat Top and Head For’mst, where some years ago our hours were spent wondering at the number of gnats, fanning them away with our hand, or a piece of mail we’d picked up from the mailbox at the end of the road. They were good days.
The porch was on the cool end of the house in the afternoon, catching the breeze, so we always sought respite there. Mis-matched chairs, what was left after the last windstorm carried some away. Seemed we were always replacing chairs.
My biggest job was to watch my son play with the dogs … wait for him to come home from a tractor ride, or lookin’ for deer. We’d start on supper and wait for some of the ‘menfolk’ to put meat on the grill … I suppose when they finished with the ‘lookin’ part. Just across the field stood Papa’s barn-full of curious tools and ancient things of every description. I think, maybe, that barn is still standing. And I think maybe I can see it again before it goes. Maybe.
Life was simple. A few minutes in the grass can remind me. It can bring it all back.
I am forever grateful.
And I think that maybe I’ll sit out in the grass again … sometime soon.
ps ~ I went outside after writing, and grabbed a little snip of the grass for you. Soak up the sunshine, love …