I am tired | Life on a Colorado Farm

My brother and I grew up on an orchard, I think I’ve told you that before. It was within the the orchard I learned to love solitude– of being surrounded by things called nature.

Often times I would take myself out into the orchards and lay down (sometimes in the ditches), totally oblivious of getting weeds and leaves in my hair or stuck to my clothes; stare up into the leaves of the trees–the sight more beautiful than any photograph could ever be.

Spring, winter, summer, fall I was washed with sunlight, starlight and the beams of the moon.

I told you this story, because I guess I need to confess, I’m tired anymore. I’ve taken two rather bad tumbles lately, one on the ditch bank, where I actually fell quiet flat on my back and probably would have made a great clip for America’s Funniest Home Videos. And yesterday, when I slid sideways, throwing myself completely flat on my right side, my head hanging down into the little creek at the bottom of the slight hill.

I was on a trail in the Old Apricot Orchard— checking fences, so Romeo (Shannon’s) horse couldn’t get out. I laid there looking up at the sky, weeds and grasses way over my head–fat bees buzzed nearby, a drove of gnats swarmed overhead, and a ladybug stopped dead in her tracks, on a blade of grass, to see what fell into her perfect little world.

Laying there caused me to remember those carefree days of willfully lying down amongst the plant life as a child.

This morning Terry confessed he was very tired also. “We are getting old,” he sadly said. “We just can’t work like we use to do.”

“Maybe we ARE old”, I replied. “But, maybe, just maybe, what we really need is a break from work. Maybe what we need is to do something so different our minds and bodies can rest.”