The annual flowers are still brilliant. Zinnias were planted in spring with our son Hawken. Special times for me to tend gardens with our 3 year old. I walk past the garden and Billie tugs @ his chain. He’s a white, pygmy goat that’s castrated. Billie is old enough to drive a car. His hut sits beside the perennial flower garden. He’s tethered by chain to his hut. Billie is King of the Hill! The assorted breeds of chickens run across the yard to greet me. They and the ducks congregate in front of Billie’s hut. A few chickens and the ducks sun themselves in the goat’s doorway every AM. We have all hen chickens, except for maybe Yoohoo. Now that’s another story for later. I pluck a Macfree apple off a tree in our orchard. Biting into the crispy apple, I listen to the Barred Owl call. I shuffle my barn boots down the black top road. More goats, sheep, beef cattle and kittens to feed. The Barn Swallows are lining up on the high line wires. It’s delightful to hear their sounds as I ponder the Swallow’s autumn departure. I climb over the bent, rickety gate and push open the electric drive through gates. I exhale deeply and surrender to the senses. No fog, but overcast and dull skies. It’s 6:35 AM as I amble down the grassy lane. The Blue Jays are calling from the woods. I crawl through our rusty barbwire fence. Tangles of brown curly hair hang from the barbs. I’ve reached Thunder Lane and the dead stately tree. Oak Tree fell many storms ago. She invites owls to sit in the early AM upon her branches. Around the path is First Pond. Here frogs are leaping from their resting spots and ploop is heard with my every step. Thistle seeds bend to the ground and melt onto grazed pasture. Dragonflies survey the scenery and airplane through out the morning with purpose. Anthills are mounded up next to dried mullein. Chickadees call sweetly and the wild rice rustles with the weight of Chipping Sparrows. Sandhill Cranes cruise around and call to me. There’s still a family of 3 and another of 2 that share the backwaters. They are staging and preparing for their annual journey to Texas. My shuffling boots crush crusty cow pies. The dirt is dry and dusty on the cattle trails that the herd follow. Dark mushrooms grow on logs. Dripping dew can be heard from the yellowing trees. Elephant Ears line the outside of our cornfields. Our first year of raising natural corn and we’re excited. Alfalfa fields re-growth is 6″. I notice a muskrat runway out on Jimmy and Jean Schultzie’s side of the pond fence. The run cuts through green Duckweed on the water. Teal ducks eye me and I sing a morning song. I welcome a new day and bless and release yesterday and turn towards home.

Feel the Spirit,

Sue Roskos