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,

Linda