Terry, Boomer and I took a wee walk-about on the farm one evening
The sun was just starting to set and the day birds and day animals were slowly losing their loud thrumming and calling — settling down upon the land
We walked upon cow trails, avoiding the very snowy farm road
Past the cement ditches waiting for the thaw
and slumbering fields
As the wild Canada geese winged their way onto our farm
And the Sandhill cranes bedded down for the night
Filling the air with their trilling calls
We gradually made our way back to the house.
Our farm, not confining but defining us, like all sacred places.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,