Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Field of vision

 I'm watching the sky get ready for sleep and waiting for my husband
to come home from a long day. It seems like I'm always waiting for him to come home.
 The endless green of our farm laid open before me. The colors of black and white (my children)  playing on the harvested hay that is our backdrop for the day.
 Tomorrow they will be scooped up by big tractors and stored for winter somewhere but today we play on them and climb and build memories on these big balls made of grass.
 She, being small against the tall pines
of our farm, can't make it by herself so he scoops her up and carries her. It's always teaching and reminding but today, I didn't have to remind him. He just remembered.

The thick grasses hurt her feet but when he carried her she held tight
and once again when they got to the hay she couldn't get up.
He gently put her down and then felt
his own face in the grass as he used himself to lift her up so she would be
tall enough to make it. I'm there with camera in hand, I don't want
them to ever forget the times they played on sweet bales of hay that lay open
in our pasture, with the back drop of the bluest skies.
I don't want her to forget what sweet brothers she has. Our memory
plays tricks on us. We forget the sweet times and sometimes only remember
the times that we have been wronged or hurt and I, with my lens, focus on brothers who
figure out a way to get her to the top. I focus on the smallness and on
the living that is learning to give up ones right so someone else
can make it up first. She finally gets there and the brother who helped
gets a kiss that sends rollings knots in my stomach because I feel so
very blessed to witness God's beautiful gift of brothers and sisters
loving and cherishing one another.

2 comments:

Haddock said...

What lovely pics.

Renata said...

This is so precious! My kids love playing in the hay paddocks & on hay bales too!
I love your pictures!

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