If we were having coffee, it would be served in china teacups.  We may visit under the shade of an old oak in the back yard. 

I would tell you that living on the remnants of a farm, in an old house is a beautiful way to live, some days- other days it can feel  lonely especially, if you are the last one left there.   Some times, I am inspired that I call the large yard with its’ blossoms and fruit trees my own-other times, I feel stranded in a place that out grew me. 

You would hear  of my gratitude for the soil that has fed me and those I love, in a most unselfish manner- and for a long while.  It has become an old friend.  The trees around us, were here before I was. It was “love at first sight” when I saw them, and my love  for  them remains steadfast. They have held swings and forts.  Their shade has been a refuge from the wicked heat in the summer garden. We have celebrated a marriage beneath their canopies-and mourned the loss of loved ones there as well. Trees are never “fair-weather friends”.

I will tell  you that  just beyond the barn,there is a young patch of woods full of secrets about it’s community of rabbits and birds- and beyond that, there are fields. The view of a field has been highly under-rated and  I would want you to know that. A field  is proof of man’s courage and determination. When I need bravery, I go to a field.

Having coffee under an old tree is a fine way to celebrate the seasons that I called this place “home”. My sons are now men , and my only daughter is a mother herself- Change is as likely as rain, I tell you.  It was change that brought me here and it is change that is leading me from it.

I may need to reassure you, that I will not leave with a heavy-heart,but rather a soul that is liberated and no longer needs to worry over loose tin on barns and mowing a five acre yard. I would rather be strolling with my first grandchild or standing on the beach with her uncles and hearing their dreams. Besides that,somewhere, there is a cello waiting for me to play it.  There are pictures that I need to paint and words unfolding for me to write.  I am older now, and these tasks not only suit me better, but beckon to me as well.  I will tend a smaller garden and be glad about it, I tell you truthfully.

I hope you will leave our “coffee break”, with the notion that it was time well-spent. I want you to leave with enough inspiration to spend your life wisely-and it might take a bit of courage and a good deal of faith to do so. Thank goodness for fields! May I invite you for another cup of coffee and one last look at mine?