I always get the urge to stop the car and take pictures when I see fields of hay bales too. It makes me feel good. One of the things I miss the most about living in town instead of at the farm.
Exactly! There was tons of traffic and I was in a bit of hurry ... but ...
I think my love of hay goes back to the time when I taught grade four. The last story in their reader was "Hay is Made of Flowers" and I always loved it because it heralded summer vacation, and because I loved the thought of storing up the fragrance and goodness of summer flowers to nourish the cattle all winter (and to remind the farmers each time they pitched a forkful down from the loft that summer always returns)
Welcome to Oma's world: a hermitage set on a pristine lake, nestled in mountains, surrounded by trees and inhabited by Oma, Kenya (her own dog) and the dogs she looks after.
In Oma's world there is time to see, really see, the natural landscape as it changes. When she is not outside with the dogs, Oma reads, writes and watches films. She has also returned to a lost hobby, knitting, tried pottery and felting with very limited success, and produced a great deal of funky furniture over the past year or so. She also teaches occasionally at a local language school.
Since moving to the hermitage she has discovered the secret to raising healthy house plants. They have to love their environment. We all do if we are to lead happy productive lives.
This summer she tried her hand at creating a garden, and has been consumed by it to the exclusion of most other occupations.
... a woman who has been many women and will likely continue to metamorphose right til the end ...
I have been a mother, a grandmother, a writer, a teacher, a traveler, a nomad,a hermit, a dog sitter, and a sporadic folk artist wannabe. Right now I am also a tiny-time-chef and caterer. Who knows where my travels will lead me as I travel down the final stretch of life's road?
2 comments:
I always get the urge to stop the car and take pictures when I see fields of hay bales too. It makes me feel good. One of the things I miss the most about living in town instead of at the farm.
Exactly! There was tons of traffic and I was in a bit of hurry ... but ...
I think my love of hay goes back to the time when I taught grade four. The last story in their reader was "Hay is Made of Flowers" and I always loved it because it heralded summer vacation, and because I loved the thought of storing up the fragrance and goodness of summer flowers to nourish the cattle all winter (and to remind the farmers each time they pitched a forkful down from the loft that summer always returns)
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