Monday, January 08, 2007
Sunday Afternoon Drive
Morning sunshine filled the empty space of the prairie with subtle contrast. Muted shades of winter sprinkled with bits of bold color. The sky deep and bright blue, the land seemingly colorless in its cold weather sleep. A big black angus bull, standing guard by the fence, serious yet not together unfriendly to me. The road black and straight, a roll of ribbon unwound through the grassland.
The roads were empty, the small country church parking lots full of pickup trucks, the pews filled with voices in praise. The road kept calling us further. You could see for miles and miles. Rolling hills peppered very lightly with houses. Some old and abandoned. Hopes to make a go of it in this land, shattered. I had to wonder about the people that filled these now run down empty homes. Were babies born there ? What was the wife like that hung clothes on the clothesline that now lay on the ground, and what was the man like that built his hopes in the timbers of the barn and home ? Did music fill this empty home in the evenings around the fire in the hearth ?
The old house in the picture seemed sad, forlorn. Do you suppose someone who once lived there drives by and sighs at the sight of its caved in roof and broken windows ?
I convinced Emery that I was up to a short hike so off we headed to Cedar Lake to see how much the recent rains had done to raise the water level. Some but more rain is needed to be sure.
The sun danced on the water, sparkling like a million diamonds tossed across the width of the lake. Wind blew through the cedars like whispers. Dried cat tails along the edge of the lake made Emery and I imagine Baby Moses in a basket.
Recent deer tracks in the sandy mud at waters edge, reminded us that we are the guests in this wilderness. The cold air blowing off the water felt good to me, clearing the cobwebs from my brain after a week of feeling less than good.
Emery and I walked arm and arm, comfortable in silence and happy too with conversation. I love the way this man looks at me, its a look that shows he cherishes me and that is one special look.
Life sure is good.
It is a silent sort of morning, sitting next to the wood stove in my rocker, watching the birds outside my windo...