A lot happened on Saturday at the rabbitpatch. First of all, there was not a single branch left on the territory, by the time the sun set. Even the little pasture, is better off than it was. Oh how good it felt, to see some order restored. While I was cleaning the yard, something was cooking at every hour. By the end of the day, Mama, Daddy and Kyle, would have supper every night of the week.
Mama tends to Daddys’ every need, ignoring her own. At least, she will not have to worry about supper and Kyle . . . well, he is working long hours and not about to have a slow cooked anything for his supper. It doesn’t hurt one bit, that he is always so very grateful, either. When Christian came in, he had several choices for supper and clean sheets on his bed.
In light of all that, I did not disturb a single cobweb on Saturday.
Mama told me on Saturday night, that the remnants of a storm from Florida, would arrive early Sunday morning. She was right, for it was raining before five am. It turns out, that it was a good thing that I hung laundry and did the yard work on Saturday. The rain and light wind made it the perfect morning to sleep, but I sprang out of bed like I was in my youth! This time, I would listen to every verse of the “Water Music” and watch the darkness give way to a silvery morning. . .and take my own sweet time, about it. At daybreak, I looked out the window, by my “morning table”. There were a few fallen branches hither and yonder. I had to laugh.
I made coffee and had a large slice of homemade bread smothered in butter, and listened to the rain. It was a time of serenity, for me.
As much as I write about the value of work . . .well the same can be said about rest too. There is more information available, now than ever before, to mankind. The news is full of heartbreak and discord. There is always some sort of fear, too. Most everyday, a new one . There are dire predictions, which give us something more to worry about. Under such circumstances, we must make a gallant effort to defend ourselves from the bombardment of “doom and gloom”. We must take rest. We must find solace.
For me, this means focusing on what does not change . . .what does not threaten. It is for this reason I am apt to linger under stars. it is next to impossible, for a star to provoke fear, after all. . .and since old trees do not quarrel, they make for good company. More than ever, we ought to all ramble on occasion, whether it is by a “laughing river” or an old field, or down a sidewalk . . . without any specific purpose. It never ceases to amaze me, that happening upon a patch of wild violets, can work such wonders, for the spirit. The world is bigger now than it ever was and solitude is more valuable now, than ever.
I have had such habits since I was just a child. They probably were fostered by not having something or someone to entertain me, every waking moment.. In those days, I was liable to climb a tree and sit for a while or sit on the pasture gate. I walked through the fields, while Mama cooked supper . I did not count my steps nor worry about my heart rate . . or wear headphones. There were no cell phones to stare at, either. . . so I did not miss the songs of the woodland birds nor the “golden apples of the sun”. I had no idea that such a practice would become a part of me. Nowadays, I need this “balancing act” as much as I still need supper, on any given day.
An old bridge, on the way to work is being replaced. It is my route to work. Reports say it will be spring, before the road is opened. There is a delightful, winding country road that loops around the area of construction. It adds a couple of extra miles to the commute, but the scenery is charming. I left a few minutes early today to compensate., for the beautiful, extra miles.
It wasn’t but just a few minutes later, that I was waiting to turn on the familiar road that led to the school. All of sudden, I heard the dreaded sound of screeching tires and then the deafening sound and jolt of impact. I was stunned. The shock of it all rendered me in a state and it took a few minutes before, I regained enough sense to move the car off the road. Authorities showed up and the process started. The young driver, at fault was scared and shaken. Her car was in shambles. She apologized and was so sorry. I reminded her that we were both spared and how grateful I was for that. I cried with her, for her youth convinced her that this was an insurmountable problem.
I had not even looked at the back of my car. I drive an older model, Toyota. Tres had given me the car a few years back.
Several of her family members came and I was glad for her, but suddenly, I wished that somebody was there that loved me . . .and instantly, I heard my name being called. A former neighbor had seen me and stopped to help me however she could. I had watched Sarah grow up and her parents, had practically carried me through the death of my husband. Someone that loved me did show up.
I finally mustered the courage to look at the car and I had to stare to comprehend what i saw . . .not a scratch hardly! I could drive away, after all. Even the patrolman was speechless.
Of course, once the word was out in my clan, I was given a stern talking to from my children, for not being checked out at the hospital and Tres wants the car checked out by an expert, just in case there is some hidden damage. . .and I know it is sound advice. There may very well be some crack in something important, looming in my future.
There is another twist to the story. For several weeks, and mostly when I was driving, I kept hearing the sound of an impact. It happened at least a half dozen times. At some point, it spooked me, but I never said a word. Even so, I was caught “off guard”, when it really occurred, though very oddly, I knew I had been prepared and so I did not panic.
Things like this have happened before, to me and to Christian, too. I suspect it happens to a lot of people. Now, scientific minds that thrive on proof, may dismiss such things. I hardly claim to be “holy”, but I do declare this. . . God does work in mysterious ways. I do not need to understand everything nor have some sensible explanation . . . and very rarely, do I have a clue as to what is happening next . . . . but I know Who does – and that is enough.