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drinking light

August 21, 2013

it’s hot already,

even though it isn’t yet eight o’clock.

the sun’s rays are sharp, angular, harsh.

i walk out to the end of our land and follow the ditch north,

then cut west.

ditches that were burned clean in the spring

are now covered over with weeds and tall grasses,

tangling my feet at every step.

with the sun at my back i look towards the rockies,

and see a landscape alive with color.

it seems as if every living thing reflects the sun,

drinking the white light and giving it back

in full-spectrum color.

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hay bales dot the landscape after the second cutting

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interspersed with brilliant surprises.

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a week ago my daughter spotted a black bear in a cornfield nearby

and snapped a photo out of her car window.

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                                                                                                                                                                             photo by jill

i think about this every time i walk out here now,

something not too worrisome in the open fields

but of greater concern amongst the ancient trees

that line the main ditch by the head gate.

as i walk down the gravel road alongside the ditch

i hear something drop behind me and skitter around my feet.

fending off the paralysis of fear i turn to face it:

dammit.

it’s my sunglasses, dropped carelessly after taking a photo and moving on.

willing my heartbeat to slow i turn around and head home,

feeling the perspiration run down the inside of my elbow.

my absurd thought is that of gratitude i’m not forced to pant

to regulate the heat bearing down on my body.

i pass the headgate and marvel at how the droplets

sparkle in the light as the water rushes through its channel.

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looking up i see in the crown of one of the ancients

the dreaded harbinger of season’s coming end:

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no, i silently plead.

not yet.

looking against the sunlight the grasses take on the shimmery look of lace.

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and a tiny grass sparkler ignites at my feet.

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i pass the spot where the little barn owl made its final landing last fall,

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pleased to see the grass blades drinking the light

and providing a sheltered resting place for this fine offering.

nearing home, i meet richard at our ditch gate

and we chat about turning over our arena and leveling it,

what to do about fire ants, and how well his granddaughter

did with her sheep at the county fair.

pausing one last time, i notice

that even thistles have a distinct beauty

out in the open fields, dancing in sunlight.

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it’s hot, no question about it.

it’s going to be a good day.

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. pencilfox permalink
    August 22, 2013 1:06 am

    yes. a good day. with all that colour.
    and a bear.

    • sassysistersink permalink*
      August 22, 2013 2:35 am

      yes, a bear.
      i don’t think my resolve to always wear high top leather boots when i roam the fields would help much with that one.
      a colorful life, indeed!!

  2. August 28, 2013 4:43 am

    That bear in the field looks very out of place, but cute! Let’s hope he head elsewhere though!

    • sassysistersink permalink*
      September 4, 2013 3:44 am

      Haven’t heard of any more sightings, so we can hope he has located some more bear-friendly terrain!,

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