Sunday, November 13, 2016

Sunday

I look outside and I think -- in the last few weeks we moved from near summer temps, through fall appropriate brisk winds, to (coming next weekend) a wintry chill. And still the glorious sun continues to shine down on us, making this a gentle time: despite all that's going on at the political front, here we are, in that rural landscape of the Midwest, basking in seemingly perpetual sunshine!


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I'm still picking up the pieces of a busy Fall. The yard is more or less ready for winter, but the house needs a thorough scrub. And so breakfast is late. Very late.


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And then in the afternoon, I push us out for a walk.


The fields to the east are cut and a plow runs through them all day long...


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We walk on. To the Nature Conservancy lands, where, at the side, cattle graze.


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But the trail I'd been wanting to follow here is too overgrown. Ed says it's manageable, but he's way taller and still the grasses top his head.


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(The extravagance is in the sky. The big beautiful Wisconsin sky...


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We walk in awe of it.)


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And eventually when the going gets too tough, we turn back.

I'm thinking -- we move together well, Ed and I. We like it, need it, look for it: movement.


In the evening, Ed goes out for a meeting of fellow bikers (all aging, all liking to scheme big, even as the biking adventures grow smaller, shorter...). It is the weekend's end and so the young family comes to the farmhouse for dinner.

Snowdrop is in a lovely mood!


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(Showing her Eastern European roots?)


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She loves loves LOVES everything about dinner, except the decorative green sprigs of fennel. She picks them out daintily and continues, totally satisfied.


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Happiness. We all strive toward it and yet, sometimes I think that the younger we are, the easier it is for us to grab it when it rolls by.


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It's a school night. The young family leaves.

Outside, the moon is as large, pink and beautiful as I've ever seen it.

It shines brightly...


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on all of us tonight.

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