Greeting the New Day
There’s nothing quite like the freshness of the early morn here on our small plot of heaven, as the dew-kissed grass crunches under my well-worn gumboots, and the cold morning air sings in my lungs, brushing away the sleepiness. Old Bandit, still energetic by half, shakes off his night’s rest with a yawn and a wagging tail, while Stevie Nicks gives a dismissive groan, inviting the sun to take its sweet time rising.
Dawn’s arrival cues the rooster’s morning proclamation, followed by a chorus of clucks from his loyal hens. It’s a comforting daily orchestra, an affirmation that another day has indeed greeted us. It’s time to gather the eggs – another day’s work begins.
The Pulse of Life in the Garden
Now that the chill of morning is gracefully fading into a mild, sun-kissed day, it’s off to the garden. That magical little spot, over-run with both purpose and spontaneity. Bandit follows enthusiastically, ever in anticipation of a stray carrot or rogue tomato, while Stevie Nicks, diva that she is, suns herself on the porch, confident that she isn’t missing out on anything important.
I must admit, there is something satisfying about digging in the soil. Must be how it grounds you—reminds you of the simple, profound cycle of life and death. The smell of freshly upturned earth, its texture under my worn gardening gloves and the sight of abundant green holds a charm that’s hard to match. And therein lies the joy. The toil, the dirt, the calluses all pale when compared to the beauty of a seed turning into something more.
Friendly Faces and a Different Pace
Next, it’s time to check on the pigs. There’s nine of them, all with personalities as distinct as their endearing snouts. They grumble and rummage about as I check on their water and food. Occasionally, they pause to snuffle contentedly in my direction. Our bond is simple and, in a way, comforting. Gentle souls in a busy world.
The menagerie of animals on our property certainly adds color to our days. The brood of chickens, the cantering of our rambunctious Kelpie, and the lazier movements of the Groodle, all against the soothing constant grumbling of our happy pigs. Even the occasional visits by our local fox (which incidentally necessitated the compulsory reinforcement of our chicken coop)—adds to the rich tapestry of our country life.
The Quiet of Dusk
And then, as the day winds down, the burst of orange and pink in the sky signals it’s time to call it a day. Once the animals are all tucked in for the night, it leaves me with a moment of solitude. This, right here, is the best part of the day. Not because it heralds the end of work, but because of the profound sense of tranquility. Even Bandit and Stevie seem to concur, an unusual harmony betwixt the two.
Sure, the work is hard, and the hours are long. But look a little closely, and you see how wonderfully fulfilling it is. It’s only here you find truth in the phrase ‘the beauty of ordinary days’.
The hubbub of the kids visiting – their noise and laughter and the sound of little granddaughters playing chase with Bandit remind me of the fullness of life we are blessed with. These are the simple moments that keep me grounded, that remind me of what is essential, what is eternal – love, family, and the bond that we share.