My life stories

A View of the Field 

You may remember from other posts that our backyard looks out over a field. After living in an apartment for ten and a half months, the freedom of not just a backyard but a backyard with a view has brought me so much peace and joy.

After moving in, we explored the little hills, circled the pond, and dug in the sand pits briefly before the summer heat set it.

Early in the morning, when the mist rises from the pond, I can usually be found curled up by a window in our library enjoying this view. Please note the prosaic plastic ‘toys’ in the grass.

Even earlier morning, perhaps during the fall? The lights are the only indication of houses across the field and glow like eery eyes possessed. 
 

My older kids would run to the ridge and back, even during the summer days. I’m glad the heat didn’t entirely squelch their spirit of adventure. From my kitchen window I can see them, two little dots, running down, then up, then back again to ice-cold drinks and air conditioning.

Summertime changed the field’s mood. It became distant and blinding as a green desert, stretching out as far as summer itself, unreachable in the stifling shimmer of heat waves. Hostile. Beautiful, still, but unreachable. By extension our backyard would have been pleasanter with a tree or two, anything to offer a little shelter from the sun.

But the sky was not always oppressive. Sunsets were glorious in pinks and blues, clouds billowing in white and pearl towers. We’d sit outside after dinner, savoring any humidity-chasing breeze, while the kids played on the slip-n-slide. On those afternoons that saw grey clouds rolling in, I felt the relief of dimmer skies and the excitement of approaching storms. Magnificence rolled and sparked in the pouring rain and lightning just outside our windows.

Then fall arrived, slowly. Once again mysteries half-seen and half-imagined floated about just out of grasp. The mists gathered heavily in the early morning, the perfect haunt for a headless horseman.  During the waking day, the grass traded its sweet summer fragrance for a  fragile straw scent. The sky became less harsh and the sun became more welcoming. Finally, we could walk in the field again and breathe.

A cloudy afternoon.

Sunset.
Winter as we know it approaches this month. I anticipate the changes January will bring to our field. I imagine there will be more trips to the giant sand box, lighter and brighter blue skies, and the brisk air that brings my bones to life. This view is changeable as the sea. Sometimes harsh, sometimes mysterious; welcoming or out of reach, it is our view.

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5 thoughts on “A View of the Field 

    1. And I just got to read your Jan. 1 post, yay! I love those pictures of you and your pretty grumpy cat. Your smile is vibrant and lovely. Cheers to ’17!

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