on country walks
no matter where i've lived, i always feel at home when i have a walking route. my current one is by far my favorite and, when i head uphill to the vineyards, i always breathe a sigh of gratefulness for where i live.
because of this loop, my ears are trained to hear snakes in the grass and doves perched on telephone wires. i know where the blackberries are and often stop to pick fresh plums on tip-toe. once i saw a hummingbird resting on a branch not far from the now-familiar field of sweet peas.
if it is late morning, the boy with downs syndrome will often run along his side of the fence with a beach ball saying hello to me the entire way. i look forward to saying hello back. the killdeer lay their eggs among the river rocks by the stables and the jersey cow looks at me with her big brown eyes as if to say, "all will be well".
luxury cars speed past me on their way to and from wineries while riding lawnmowers stir up august dust. somehow the queen anne's lace defy this dust, bobbing gently in the evening breeze--a nod to grace--and guiding my steps back home.
because of this loop, my ears are trained to hear snakes in the grass and doves perched on telephone wires. i know where the blackberries are and often stop to pick fresh plums on tip-toe. once i saw a hummingbird resting on a branch not far from the now-familiar field of sweet peas.
if it is late morning, the boy with downs syndrome will often run along his side of the fence with a beach ball saying hello to me the entire way. i look forward to saying hello back. the killdeer lay their eggs among the river rocks by the stables and the jersey cow looks at me with her big brown eyes as if to say, "all will be well".
luxury cars speed past me on their way to and from wineries while riding lawnmowers stir up august dust. somehow the queen anne's lace defy this dust, bobbing gently in the evening breeze--a nod to grace--and guiding my steps back home.
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