Night can be so long. Sigh.
Sometimes I fancy I can feel the touch, of that feathered wing, of the Dark Angel flitting around searching for those ‘whose time has come.’
When that happens I get up and read or Boomer and I take a midnight walk.
Sometimes I think it would be nice to be a little child again…you know that time when you would feel all fretful and fussy inside, unable to relax. Then along would come Momma–holding our little child’s body against the warmth of her body. My Momma would hum as she held me; until rest came.
Terry and I have decided we need to move more…get outside…Do Something.
At different points in the day I put put on my large, large coat…it’s so big it swallows me whole, but I like it for hauling wood–it allows me to move around easily. I, also, don’t care it it gets torn.
We walk to different parts of the farm, make mental lists of the things we want to get done “come Spring” and then head back home. Feeling refreshed and glad of the momentum in the fresh air.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,