I don't know why it feels this way, but it makes me giddy to be here. I have this passion to pick all of the wild sunflowers I see and decorate every room with mason jars and orange/yellow bouquets. The morning air is crisp right before the sun peaks over the hills. The sounds are simple; the rippling brook, the twittering of small birds, the bleat of a lamb and the occasional sound of a car in the distant valley below.
Back in the country kitchen the fly swatter stays handy but it is all a part of the charm. I am inspired here. My mind is full of paintings I would like to create and stories I would like to tell. I find evidence of my former life when the days were carefree and I could jump and climb and explore without the stiffness of age. I note Mother's pickle crock displayed high up on the shelf, the old metal canisters for flour and sugar in the corner and her small bedroom chair that she used to sit on, roll up her silk stockings and secure them to her garter belt each morning. It makes me smile to think of my mother wearing a cotton dress each day to do her housework and prepare three meals a day for her dairy-farm husband and family. Oh, how things have changed in the world. Even in the later years, like many other women, Mother traded her stockings and dress for pants and comfy tops.
This place isn't mine, it belongs to another.....someone I love and who also loves nostalgia. That is why I find little bits of my life here and there. I have never been afraid to be alone here, even at night with all the scary sounds. My heart is lifted as I sit on the porch, facing west, and experience another beautiful sunset. I feel so lucky to look out into the meadow in the early morning and late evening and see something truly magnificent and special. It is peaceful here, my spirit is renewed and I have an overwhelming desire to express gratitude to my Heavenly Father for allowing me to experience this wonderful slice of Heaven.
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