The first half of the haying season was a nightmare for farmers, it rained every day and then was brutally hot. The second half looks better, farmers have begun the second cut of hay – the one we use – the most nutritious hay for horses and donkeys and our sheep. I suspect it will be a lot more expensive this year but I will be happy to get it in the barn. It is a wonderful feeling to have all the firewood and hay ready for the winter.
The Day Sky is filled with wonder and enchantment, crisis and mystery, it announces itself and we rush after it, or if we are awakened, we stop to drink it in, make our plans and hopes and wishes for the day. For most of my life, I was blind, I never saw the day sky, just rushed past it. Some people are alive to the world, I woke up at 2 a.m. and saw that Maria wasn’t in bed and I got up to see if she was all right, and came downstairs and couldn’t find her in the house.
I called out to her and I heard a voice coming from outside, from one of the rocking chairs on the porch where the cats and chickens hang out. “I’m out looking at the full moon,” she said and I went outside and there she was sitting in a chair with Flo swirling around her, she just wanted to see the light in the moon. How can you not love someone as sweet and pure as that?
Later, she came back and she said she had walked out into the pasture and visited the donkeys, cuddled with Simon, talked to the sheep. I just need to be in nature sometimes, she said, you understand. I do. It was wonderful, she said, special.
Some of us open our eyes to the real news and beauty and meaning of life in this world, some people never do.
Sometimes I feel like a falling star in the day sky,
let everyone see the sublime beauty as we hold hands with God,
and burn brightly into a sacred existence,
that surpasses the hollow expectations of the greedy, angry, distracted and confused world.
That surpasses every description of ecstasy and love.
