Warm winds blowing have quickly melted much of the snow–mud season for a bit. Buds have appeared on some of the trees but I’m hopeful that they won’t progress much further until spring really arrives. The horses are enjoying the fact that their hooves are not the home for hard snow balls. Calves are beginning to decide it is time to come into the world. All of this goes on in my world–how can it not be woven in and through my writing?
Snow storms have left our landscape white; it’s been years since we’ve seen snow like this. I ventured out on my snow shoes having forgotten that I even owned a pair. Snow shoeing has to be one of the most enjoyable ways to get out and see the country around you. Pack a snack or lunch and some water, and let the peace of the land seep into your soul–blessings abound.
This farmstead is not too far down the road from us. I love the word which apparently was first used in 1807 and simply refers to the farm and its buildings. Can you even imagine living in the late 1800s on these plains? There were no buildings; you lived in a small underground dug out. We complain about long winters now, but then, you stayed in that tiny space and only ventured out to feed your livestock when it stormed. There was no sitting in the window seat wrapped in a blanket sipping hot cocoa with marshmallows and gazing out at the blowing snow. Still, I think I would have loved that life–carving something out of nothing, working hard from dawn to dusk and knowing that when your head hit the pillow at dark, you’d accomplished something with your sore muscles a witness.
Horses are curious creatures and that makes them great characters. My Isa loves horses and discovering what each one is about. What makes them tick. As a child, she was most alive when she worked with her horses; the stars on board Bounty give her that same kind of alive. Yet, she longs for horses, taking any chance she can get planet side to ride.
These two are quite enamored with the golf cart!
Bulls want their hay!
Heavy snow delays feeding due to a bit of tractor trouble.
Snow continues to fall today and temperatures are dropping. My normal feeding routine was interrupted in the dark when my trusty tractor could not pull the hay sled out of the snow drift. I think the horses were laughing at the bulls because all I had to do was throw their alfalfa over the fence and they were happily munching away, while the bulls were wondering why I wasn’t bringing out their massive amount of hay. A few hours later, the bulls were contentedly eating their feed, mindless of my frozen fingers and unaffected by the cold wind. Nothing seems to bother them as long as they get to eat. I’d like to get that state and out of the unrest state I seem to find myself in more often than not. Those still small inner voices we all hear, are screaming in my head about writing and my characters will not give me any peace when I’m not sure which way to go with them.
On this wonderfully cold and snowy day, I offer a small excerpt from my new novel…yet untitled:
Jess thought getting out of range of her father would silence the voice, but all it’d done is add more static. None of this entered her present thinking; it was simply and permanently etched in the fibers of her soul. Taking a few deep breaths, she concentrated the cross hairs in the scope of her rifle on a single pumpkin. It was on the ground because she was afraid she might hit the post accidentally. Focusing on orange, she pushed the safety forward with her thumb. Shuffling her feet and molding her upper body to the pick-up hood, she hugged the rifle into her shoulder. Breathing in and out several times, she felt her hand jerk anticipating the loud crack of the firing. Her finger rested along the barrel, just above the trigger.
The pumpkin was still centered in her scope when that finger finally felt the curve of the trigger and squeezed. She didn’t hear the shot but turned at Sam’s, “Yes!”
Looking outside both yesterday and today, the world was a sparkling reminder of the beauty we are always surrounded by but don’t always notice. I’m thankful for a God who is faithful and who loves beauty. Returning from my run before dawn, the little sliver of an orange moon was just rising and the coming sun was right on its tail! Each day as I leave into the world, I see this and it reminds me where I came from.
Even when I don’t reach that writing goal or whatever goal is in front of me, I know there will always be another chance, another dawn and I’m thankful for that.
Fresh snow falling this morning is making the world new, clean and fresh. It has a magical twinkling feel especially because it is so still. Heard several versions of the same message this weekend which makes me think I should be listening. It’s like the guy waiting to be rescued from the flood and he tells each person that comes along offering help “no thanks, I’m waiting for God to rescue me.” He eventually drowns and then asks God why He didn’t answer his prayers and of course God replies that he sent all those people to help and why didn’t he take advantage? Duh. So I’ll see where this message leads me.
What a beautiful winter morning, the kind where I wish I had a writing space surrounded by windows and in which I could spend the entire day writing and gazing out at the landscape. The bulls are feeling ‘randy’ today and are gallumping about in the pasture. It is still and calm with big fluffy flakes sort of meandering down from the last bit of the storm that’s moving out.
I love it when the moon comes around again in its courses so it is high in the sky in the predawn hours. Brightening the whole world as I run, a friend in dark places. Taking some time to write about things that make me smile when I think about them, I’d have to include that moon. Reminding me of the coming light of day and another new beginning. I tend to need these pretty much every day!
I’ve been reading a lot of poetry lately and I love this stanza of Joel Nelson’s “Equus Caballus:”
I can be tough as hardened steel – fragile as a flower.
I know not my endurance and I know not my own power.
I have died with heart exploded ‘neath the cheering in the stands –
Calmly stood beneath the hanging noose of vigilante bands.
 | Mary Deatherage on What My Soul Misses |
 | Kathy Cordes on What My Soul Misses |
| Kathy Cordes on The Outhouse |
 | Michael Moore on The Outhouse |
| Michael Moore on Grandpa’s House |
Sally Gerard 