Columbine | Life on a Colorado Farm

Ordinary dreams are never clear–they are jumbles of this and that

As we sleep we walk in small places where the old gods used to roam

In that time long-before Christ came.

Those ancient gods of hills and woods and streams

We wander here and there in the dusk of our daily happenings, free from rituals, cities crowded with men

Where sometimes we walk thoughtlessly, as if we are kings, or fairies, or even riding on stars moving silently in the Universe

Sometimes we meet scary unknown things, which zip out of the air of our thoughts, rushing toward us like a demon felt only within the dark

Jerking awake, breathing like we are riding the wind—to realize we just dream.

Turning over…flipping the pillow to the cool side, we once more fall asleep and dream

A thoughtlessly as wee babe in a mother’s arms.

I hope your Sunday is a very good one!

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,

Linda

It’s raining here. Has been for two days. The weather people say it will rain at least until Tuesday.

Today Terry turned the irrigation water off. It’s too muddy to walk on the ditch banks. To turn the irrigation water off is a very strange occurrence once it is turned on.

It’s extremely chilly outside, the air so fresh it will make you cough, if you take a good lungful of it. The trees are dripping, water sits on everything; running in rivulets off the eaves.

We only have four little hummingbirds. This photo is on May 13th a couple of years or so ago. We have aways to go to reach this level of activity.

The sky is still lowering as I write; clouds black in the west and dark grey in the morning east. It’s cold enough I want to start a fire in the fireplace, although we do have the furnace up and going.

Oh well, rain is good for so many things I will just enjoy it. The weather people also say major heat is following these series of cold rain storms.