The barn yard is quiet. All the animals are snuggled warmly in their bedding. Milo is probably curled up in the hay manger. The children are fast asleep as the winter snow falls from the night sky. Its a beautiful night.
I am sitting here quietly by the warm fire. The flickers from the flames cast faint shadows on the walls. Their dance makes my eyes heavy and ready for sleep. I had wished this evening to dream, day dream of the things to come and reflect on years gone by. But the flames of the fire are lulling my eyes to heavily drift. It seems as though I may have to dream a dream and keep the day dreams for tomorrow. We will see how long it takes before the winter warmth sends me to my bed...
Christmas is gone. The planning that went into the holidays have finally came to head and soon will be completely passed. The decorations will be dismantled and the holiday rush will now dwindle as we all begin to hibernate into our cozy homes.
Now to come are the days of dreaming of gardens and fences, kids, chicks and bee hives, tractor parts and compost bins, gravel driveways and blueprints. Now that the holidays have passed its time to sit by the fire sift through seed catalogs and dream of warm summer days.
I have to laugh at myself a little. Its funny how my perspective changes through the long winter months. This past Aug. I was overwhelmed and lost over our gardening failure. I said next year we will go smaller.... The winter months heals the seasons loss and prepares a new soil, renewing the spirit for further growth. O yes, this year the garden will grow! It will be bigger and better than ever!
I can hear the sounds now. The bees will buzz out of their hive across the herb garden. The sun will shoot down wistful rays of light. A light breeze will blow and the smell of bee balm and basil will tickle my nose. Milo will leave little paw prints in the soil as he chases the strings I am using to tie my last tomato. Our lonesome rooster will crow out a loud song reminding me to throw him some corn. The girls will stand at the fence as Jasmine calls out for her turn on the milk stand.
The evening sky will slowly creep down on us as we finish that final row. The children still happily playing. Between the rows of corn, they will run. The warm silky dirt will feel like heaven between their toes.
The warm summer nights we will still sit by the fire. Under the pavilion the chimenea will blaze while we drink mint tea. The dogs will sprawl out at our feet. Heavy my eyes will get as I watch the summer flames prance. I will wish to day dream about the things to come but my weary muscle will go limp as the flames set weights on my lids... The Whippoorwill will call out to me as the light breeze gives my hammock swing a gentle rock and fast asleep in the land of milk and honey I will walk.....