View

 Good morning from a rainy South Carolina where the soul wakes up to worship. The grass grows, the cows sing as I sit with steaming coffee. The chickens peck insects and scurry for scraps. My little composters. The old man that is my dog lazily comes to my lap. I rub behind his ears as he purrs almost cat-like reveling in the attention. I look out at my own personal piece of earthly heaven, and I wonder how I could be so lucky. 

Blessed that my pasture looks like my own Augusta National. I feel like finding a driver and a golf ball. Let my backyard be a playground for frivolity. Dreams of a Woods-like follow through are in my mind, as swings are made, but not successful. Clearing the barbed wire now becomes my aim. Thirty minutes later, I amble along picking up the balls like the rocks of my childhood. The bucket these days is much lighter, but no more the better. The rocks buried in dry earth so difficult to extricate then provide motivation to seek joy in rolling in hay bales recalling the days of riding, the mustang, Jughead. 

Coming up for lunch is a reprieve for my aching muscles. Recreating the whims of a teenager leaves 40 year old bones yelling for an ice bath. A nice ham sandwich and Sun Chips with some unsweetened tea is just what I need. I consider an audiobook to keep me company, but wondering if silence is the answer. The only soundtrack is chewing and swallowing. I wonder if this is what peace feels like. No need for noise to be my only companion. 

In the farmland that is mine, I’m finding completion. Completion in contentment. I still dream of the South of France in the lavender fields, the Parisian je ne sais quoi, or the seascapes of Capri, but right now my view is a familiar one, but beautiful nonetheless. 

Describe your current view.