Ordinary Dreams — Sunday, May 20, 2018

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,



Moving into the Heart of the Light—Thursday, July 13, 2017

A large portion of my day is spent on a ditch bank….somewhere, someplace, here on the farm

Morning, noon, evening…the earth, the sky, the water—moisture in the air..rain landing softly on the fields rich with good earth and lush plants

The sun captures so brilliantly the clift on the Uncompahgre Plateau where the Plateau starts to change and slope toward Grand Junction.  It’s close to this cleft where a person can descend into Gateway, Colorado

Lately the air has been restless; shifting, rising, flowing–heavy with moisture

Sometimes the sun is suspended in the western sky…blazing the horizon into a dazzling display of red, orange and yellow

I have no true favorite time of the sky…I love the luminous eastern sky’s violet when the final stars are gone.  The early sun turning from violet to pink then gold and

finally a robin’s egg blue

And the night-time full of the moon or the stars so brilliant it’s like being surrounded by diamonds

I (sometimes) think our lives have seasons…times when nothing seems to be happening…but, if we look close…there are many changes going on… we just forget to see them.

From my heart to your world,


The Soft Susurrus as the Night Gathers—-Tuesday, March 14, 2017

There is a silence, which descends on the land, as the day starts to fade and night begins creeping into all the corners of the earth

Although the day time sounds are muted.  But darkness, you understand,  is not silent…small melodious voices break out through all the long time, of that mysterious shadowy time of sleep.

Invisible intimate sounds: the hoot of an owl, a squeak of a scurrying mouse, a nightbird calling;the howl of a distant coyote…are a constant flicker at the edge of hearing.

There are those who feel an uneasiness in the night. But not I….

I find a late night walk (among those creatures of the land) a rather comforting journey of peace.

From my world to your heart,



With the Scent of a Summer Night, Comes the Dawn—-Thursday, July 14, 2016

Day-endingI am working feverishly to get everything caught up.   For you see, we have company coming.  Terry’s Sister and brother-in-law will be here on Sunday, then Monday we get to have our youngest Granddaughter for THE WEEK!  And I don’t want to be cleaning, weeding, or working hard during that time.

Grain-BinsOur days are hot and over-powering in the overwhelming heat, causing sweat to run down my face as I weed, rake, fertilize, prune, trim and mow. My body slowing turning into the wind, earth and water as I melt.

Bees and wasps buzz heavily, with  gnats and mosquitoes in clouds; creating easy fodder for the swallows nesting all along the edges of our house.


Our yard is dizzy with the scents of grass, sweet white lilies, and water sprinkling on the lawn.


My weeding of the pinto bean fields are done!  I finished the two acre field last night.  From this point on we turn our heads and choose not to see the weeds, which will flourish there anyway, coming from the wind and water.


The sun breaks forth over the line of trees quickly rising to heat the day; riding on the scents of last night.


As I worked I noticed a narrow crack of stunning light showing my everything— is worth it.

From my world to your heart,


My Love of Light–Tuesday, September 15, 2015


I love the light…first light of the daybreak…when things of the dark go to sleep and those of the day start their rustle and bustle


This time of year the air is sharp and chill,


but warms through the day, until a nice and toasty heat is radiating off the land


By nightfall, the things of the farm pause and draw breath, slowing for the long rest.


Brilliant evening light filters through every crack and crevice


The plants pause first,  then the animals and birds slow, stopping their frantic search for food;  if you are still and just listen you can hear the earth itself draw a slow and peaceful breath.

There are many, many names for God.  The reason being;  one small word is not enough to describe love.

As always your friend on a western Colorado farm,


A Deep Hush, Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Night-coming-inThe farm at twilight sends out  a deep hush

hollyWhich says:  “Step lightly…listen carefully…


The Swallows catching supper lend a peacefulness to the cooling air.

Moon-in-TreeThe plants stir gently in the gentle evening breeze

Peek-a-booGlittering moonlight shatters the gloom sending waves of silver–much kinder than the sun, slower…a different rhythm– bringing on that space of time called night.

Your friend,





Stamped Upon the Heart and Brain—Thursday, August 13, 2015

xSometimes in the evening (after irrigation is done) we sit, Terry and I, upon the outside chairs.


If we get in Before the sunsets.  Last night was one of those nights.


We relaxed and let the evening take over…the little swallow family was busy feeding the tiny mouths for the long, long rest until morning.

The hummingbirds zoomed by us, filling up for their night, Boomer lay on my feet and Sam-Sam our outside kitty sat on Terry’s lap purring.  In the bathroom window, Monkey the house cat (because she eats birds) lay stretched out longing to be outside with us.  But birds come first on our farm.


It was one of those moments when you are aware of your own heartbeat.  A watching.  A space in time, which stamps itself upon your heart, brain and soul. A moment instantly recalled in every detail for the rest of your life.

Your friend on a Western Colorado farm,


The Adventures of Fuzzy and Boomer on Friday — Night Work

Night work starts…well, at night!


Sometimes not at night, but close to night,

Night-Work-2you know—

Night-Work-1dusk, or maybe it’s twilight, or the gloaming  or whatever you like to call it…evening!


Boomer says it’s really EVENING work…

Whatever it is it doesn’t matter…it starts when the day is ending.

Mom, Dad, Boomer and I go out and change the water.  We do this every day…Spring, Summer and Fall.  We ride or walk on the same fields, move the water through the same rows days after day after day.



Sometimes we go to town…we have to ‘get stuff’ you know.  Gasoline, milk,

Townsometimes a hamburger treat for Boom and I —HEAVEN!

We are changing water more and more now…the water keeps getting cut back and it isn’t even June yet.

(Dad is real worried, but he can only do what he can do. — Boom and I wag our tails and give him lots of licks on his hand to try and help him relax)

We go with Mom and Dad all the time—– Early morning, Noon, Three in the afternoon, 6 at night and then at dark, so far we don’t have to go out in the middle of the night! But Dad says that is coming…like TONIGHT!!!!


The dog cousins come at the crack of dawn for their daily walk.  We change water then. Well, really Dad changes water then and we just help.


Then their Mom has to go to work.  She really never changes water…I don’t think she even knows HOW to change water.  But she doesn’t have too she does other nice stuff….like she loves ANIMALS and Tom the Turkey!!

That’s okay Hank’s mom knows how and she helps if Mom and Dad have to go somewhere and can’t be home at the ‘right time’!  We go with Hank’s Mom; of course Hank goes with us.  He loves to chase mice out of the siphon tubes.

Hank goes with Boomer and looks over the Chico hills, the sage brush areas, and even down in the slue smelling the news…in Hank’s case just seeing the news.  Boomer does all the smelling.

We’ve sure been having lots of wind…Dad says the wind dries things out…I’ll take this wind instead of the stuff we get in the winter—the so cold your face is wiped off your head wind…nope, give me a summer wind…keeps the bugs off a feller and ruffles the fur so ya don’t sweat so much.


Oh, have to go….Mom is calling for me to come—I don’t want to miss my ride.  I’ll have to stay home if that happens ‘cause I can’t run anymore.

See Ya!





The Evening Irrigation

When I got home from work I found muddy boots greeting me as I walked into the door…first on the outside steps

and then inside;

 I guess the ditch bank was a tad bit muddy today after all the rains. 🙂

But I must confess I enjoyed the freshness of the late afternoon.  There was still some rain hanging around in the mountains

but it slowly dried up.

As Terry moved the water

and I helped walk the water down the rows

Fuzzy chased bubbles in the ditch

the skies clear somewhat  giving us a profound ending to another day.

I am sometimes just plain humbled to know that we have this amazing earth to call our home.