Against the Wind: A Farm Picnic

 

Summer seems to pick up speed after July 4th,

almost as if the days are skidding down a rain-damp hillside.

 

Today, we slowed down.

 

It was a breezy day,

one of those afternoons when I took time to watch the world.

 

When I was a small child, I loved watching my mama pin damp sheets

to the clothes line. She would bite down on wooden pins, as if she were preparing to wage war against the wind.  With each gust, the towels snapped and snapped.

And a clean, fresh smell filled the air.

 

 

 

Finally, calmness.

Stillness.



 

 

I'll use the tablecloth weights for another picnic,

when I'm not wind-watching.

 

 

 

 

The wind roared over the farm as I was cleaning up.

With my arms loaded, I fell down and dropped those pretty polka dotted bowls.

Smashed them to pieces.

 

My mother would say, "Better to use your dishes and risk breakage than to keep them on a shelf."

 



 

Tomorrow please join us for a Halcyon Sky Cook-out



A Metamorphosis Monday contribution.

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