Saturday, January 17, 2015

The Blur

You have to do your own growing no matter how tall
your grandfather was.
Abraham Lincoln 

I am weary of the cold that has just unpacked herself on the farm in the past two weeks.
The sun hidden behind a dark wall of clouds, that if I look to the east or west as far as my eye can see, still rolling in. We huddle here and continue to put on boots and jackets and head out to feed the animals we share this ground with. I have noticed that the animals are fond of music. From my kitchen window their paddock is right outside and they stand as if they're listening to the sounds of our voices. they look in our windows and are silent as we sing our favorite hymn. They stop for a moment. I chuckle to myself because they don't seem like the type to like beauty, but truly pigs are one of the most interesting of our farm animals, besides my beloved Rosebud and even she can't compare with my pigs.  Mama pig as she is affectionately called lets me know when the weather will take a turn for the worse because she prepares the day before for impending cold fronts and I see her pulling tall grass that's long been dead and take it to their shelter, a modest home on the edge of her property line where she has raised two litters of babes and kept them safe from harm. She pads their sleeping area and it looks more like a bubble of hay, a safe bed. 
 I put soup on the menu for my next days meal and sure enough the coldness screams out. 
The soup is warm and filling and I have mama pig to thank.

She sneaks out to the boys camp-out site and gets in with their other visiting guest, Honey.
I'm looking for her and I smell the camp-fire that seems to draw you out. The guys are blowing and running after wood for a small fire, she is laying with Honey warm and watching them. Her shoes laying at the foot of the tent and her feet tucked up under her. It's cold but warmer than yesterday and the nature here won't be denied  This land seems to call for them through the tall trees whispering to each of them to come out and experience the cold with her like they do the warmth.

They can't resist and for most of the days I'm spending my time calling them in from the cold or the rain. They beg to stay out just a few more minutes and I finally give over because their childhoods only last a few hours and I don't want to shorten them because of the seasons. In a world that seems to want to steal childhoods I say no and I buy rain boots, warm jackets, wool socks and hats and push back the world for one more day as they climb trees and search the pond, dig in dirt and feed the birds.
I document as much as I can because I believe we're living in a time where children don't play outside much anymore and I want mine to remember their time here as a sweet season of learning to live without cell phones, and computers to keep them entertained. They will have them soon enough the world will make sure and we have those things and I'm constantly battling the urge of looking way too much into the lives of others and thinking I might just be missing something out here on this farm, I turn the noise off and I take a walk around the beaten path and I hear their laughter echoing threw the valley and the sweet reminders coming in waves.
 The cell phone turned down and remembering less and less where I put it.   

 When the whole world seems to be moving forward why then do I feel like we're moving backwards the longer we live out our lives here compared to most of the world.

The vastness of beauty and trees and most importantly the silence.
The things we say foreign to most
Pink sky's at night farmers delight, or the way  their daddy taught us,
since he was a sailor, pink sky's at night sailors delight.

Meaning when you look up from moving the cow and the skies above are pink
it reminds you that it's gonna be a peaceful night.

If you look in the morning while your taking the cow out and see pink skies, you whisper
Pink skies in the morn farmers be warned.

They come to the breakfast table predicting rain.
ahhh the things we learn from not even cracking a book. 

The Lord giving us so many beautiful reminders of his built-in weather gauge.
I like this a whole lot better than the app on a phone or computer.

I believe in childhoods.
I believe that the Lord created everything for a season
 and childhood is one of those. 
When you are a child you do the things children do. 
But what do children do these days?
Children are different computers, tv and phones, year around sports.
 Why don't we ever ask ourselves
what they're giving up though?
We're being pushed along in a stream that never stops pushing and the current pulls
at our legs. We go aimlessly with the current and before we know it we can't go back to a simple place in time with trees calling out for adventures, camp fires dancing at their feet, brothers and sisters simple childhood friends.

The everyday lighting of candles for our evening meals a time to look forward to.
Nature and Light keeping them still
and their childhoods left standing another day.

Not trying to hold them back from the world because the current is always there
but reminding myself that the world can wait.

Their childhood cannot.
It is in such a time as this that I remind them to walk slow and give each minute her time.

Climb trees
walk in the woods
watch animals
make dinner a place with no excuses to get out of it
read stories 
tell stories of your own childhood
slow down
slow down 
slow down
and they will do all of this on  their own.

If we Keep being so busy that the trees pass in a blur from the backseat and
their childhood too shall be a blur.  

Love From The Farm,
A pig farmer  

1 comment:

Linda said...

Thanks for this beautiful post - it reminds me of the constant need to slow down and enjoy the simple things in life. Your word pictures so vivid,beckon my heart to be satiated by all of His creation!


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