The Peace of the Morning

Pulling on my red rubber boots I sigh, there is a crack running 2 inches long across the back, just above the heel. I love these boots for their color and their faithful service more over a decade. Now, they need to be retired. I have black wellies, serviceable for certain but they are not RED !

The screen door bangs behind me as I step onto the porch, screen doors should slam in their own particular way, so we always remember the sound. Its strange but people remember a slamming screen door with a funny kind of fondness. I understand it but have no explanation for this emotion. Birds are in all the trees, flashes of color catching my eye. A squirrel or two squawk loudly at me as I pass under a branch they feel the need to defend. The garden soil beckons me to work it, to turn it and to plant onions and potatoes. The air is soft and growing warmer by the moment. It feels spring like and full of energy and hope. The goats call to me, both with swelling bellies. Babies due in three weeks for one and four weeks for the other. Soon my mornings and evenings will once again demand more of me. Milking chores add a lot of work. The reward of a pail of fresh white milk, is so worth the work. Cheese will be made from it. It will fill tall glasses and some will be used in soap making. I will sit quietly in the barn twice each day, whispering to the goats as I milk them, leaning into their sides, I feel a fondness for each one for what they give or more for what they allow me to take from them.

There will be kids out there soon, waiting for bottles, eager and so cute. I am anxious for my grandbabies to see new kids and pet them and learn to love animals and be gentle with them and express kindness with their tiny hands as they touch the animal babies.

Grain now in the feed dish attached to the stanchion, Cinnamon is anxious at the gate, she eats first, then Licorice. Licorice is a slow eater so she is second. Cinnamon is done in no time at all.

The cats waiting for their food, climb the wooden rails, pacing with impatience. They make me smile. I look out the barn door, not a cloud in sight, only beautiful blue. A pair of hawks circle above me and cry at one another. A language all their own. Chicken house is next on my stop of chores, but a patch of shepherds purse catches my eye. I gather some to make into a tincture later today. Kidding season is a good time to have some on hand. I smile thinking about how many times my children have picked shepherds purse when they cut themselves. Squeezing that tiny purse part of the plant on the wound, stopping any bleeding right away. I am glad they know such things. There is still mint growing green, winter did not send it hiding. I decide to pick some for tea this morning, sweetened with agave nectar. It feels as if this morning I am moving through time softly and with tender steps. There is nothing but peace in my life on this fine morning.

Life is good.