“The true harvest of my life is intangible—a little star dust caught, a portion of the rainbow I have clutched.”–Henry David Thoreau
Our days have been a sanctuary…cool nights, warm days…a tad on the dry side
Walking through the falling leaves is a true simple joy….the crushed leaves scent the air, an intoxicating mix mingling with the smell of the corn as it rushes into the hopper then into the waiting grain truck. We are so dry the warm air seems to fling me up like a kite
Then late Friday night…while we were just getting home from the Elevator (8:00 p.m–we were four trucks from the last load. A long-long day) The clouds started rolling in.
(This is the sunset while waiting in line)
Then late, late in the evening a storm played along the Plateau. I took my camera into the dark and dull night. Hoping against hope I just MIGHT get to capture a lightning strike.
I stood in last year’s bean field standing in the dead pinto bean vines; Boomer somewhere close by and Min-Min cat washing her paws next to me…the storm sweeping across the plateau with a dark curtain of rain coming toward our farm, when I actually got a lightening bolt.
Small though it was.
From my world to your heart