“You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.”  Isaiah‬ ‭55:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Since the power went off in the middle of doing laundry Thursday, I went back out to the farm yesterday to finish up. The weather is tropical rainforest sticky and more rain is in the forecast. I set up my iPad on my little red café table on the front porch to write while the clothes were in the wash. 

One thing I have noticed the last few weeks is the drastic reduction in heavy equipment traffic. It’s a darned good thing because there isn’t much left of the blacktop on this old country road. Depending who you talk to, they may or may not repave. They are currently digging up the worst spots and filling the large rectangular spaces with base and gravel. This has eliminated the deepest holes, however it has left the entire road a washboard of gravel and old asphalt. I’m hoping we will get a new road by winter but I’m not holding my breath. I’m just grateful the heavy trucks have pretty much stopped. 

As I sat on the porch writing this, again I was struck by how deeply I love this old farm. My uncle owns it and I take care of it for him. When I tell him how much I dearly love being here, he just shakes his head and says, “Well, I don’t know why…but I sure am grateful you’re there to take care of the old place.”

I sat with my coffee and let my eyes run over the landscape. The Jenny Wren in the shrubbery along the creek scolded Boy Cat who was napping beneath the branches. The little Goldfinches flitted in and out to eat from the thistle socks. A Hummingbird buzzed in front of me then zipped out to the feeder hanging on the shepherd’s crook. Mourning Doves balanced on the power line, waiting their turn to scour the ground below the feeders for the seeds the other birds didn’t want. A Buzzard circled silently above, scanning the area for some unfortunate, yet tasty, road kill. The Cicadas and Katydids whirred constantly in the background, reminding me of some terrible case of tinnitus.

The mail was delivered by the nice lady in the Subaru with the yellow flashing light on top. The air was so thick and heavy with humidity, it felt like velvet. The only saving grace was a breeze…an indication of the coming rain. The incessant drone of a weed eater came from down the road. So many of the neighbors here are aging and can’t take care of their properties like they used to. They die or move away and a newer, less “industrious”, population takes over. Houses decline into disrepair. Weeds take over the previously manicured lawns and gardens. 

A flash of red caught my eye as a pair of Cardinals swooped in to browse the ground in front of me. A Downy Woodpecker tapped a staccato beat on the dead elm out by the road. It reminded me to see about getting someone in to cut it down before winter. The dryer buzzed and shook me from my reverie. My chores continue. This old farm continues. Life continues to enthrall me here on this journey. And I am grateful for this peaceful moment. ❤️