I am back home - and what overwhelms me most is the incredible quiet. That rich, peaceful, serene stillness that is in the very air I take into my lungs. The PEACE of it is so rich, so magnificent, that I am brought to tears for the very serenity it brings.
I unpack my bags and walk through my now-bursting colorful garden. The breeze is rich with honeysuckle and privot. Birds twitter and sing their nesting songs. Insects buzz. And the sun warms my skin and makes each flower a blaze of color.
I am home - and this peacefulness is as much a gift as seeing my mom doing so well.
The yellow fields of spring are fading and the hay in the fields is turning from green to bronze. The farmers have begun baling... and I am in my glory to see hay bales once again!
Feeling this 'home-coming' -- from the air to the flowers, to the fields to the bird song - is a salve. The miles between my mom and sisters and my home are many, and I miss seeing those I love more frequently. Though mom is so much better - with health issues prominent, one lives from day-to-day. Thus, this sense of serenity is even more of a blessing.
It's a funny thing the types of places that give us a sense of peace and 'home.' My sisters and daughter love the city - the 'availability' and 'conveniences' of having stores and events close by. My son, like me, prefers the quiet life and the feel of soil beneath our feet instead of asphalt and concrete. Different strokes indeed.
Somehow the rural life has become "home"... and it is here I return for the exquisite gift of quiet, peaceful moments shared by the rounds of seasons and the flora and fauna that join in its celebration.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Old Oxford Barn - Home - Lin Frye