Breathe

Just breathe. I read a post somewhere on Facebook about smelling the overturned dirt in a cow pasture. They are in the process of building something there. The cows were sold. The few trees were the next to be removed. Now as they prepare to cover history with concrete, someone drove by with their windows down. They posted it because there isn't as much pasture as there once was in this area of our world.

As I read his words, memories came back. I could smell that magical fragrance through the computer screen. I could see the grass gently bowing in a dance with the wind. The music is the song of birds on a symphony of applauding leaves near the creek. I can smell the heat of the ground and feel the burning spots on the souls of my bare feet where the grass doesn't quite grow thick enough to cover the protruding ground.

I can hear my mommy talking to the outdoor cats as she hangs wet laundry on the line. I can see my daddy working on the tractor and smell the scent of a freshly lit Marlboro.

Then, SLAP! I hear the tempo of the music rise as the invisible howling of the melody of the wind makes humming noises in the pipe of the swingset frame. The sheets and pillowcases make hard percussion noises as they wave freely in the sunshine.

I see our cow watching my daddy work. She stares at him with those dark thoughtful eyes, until he can feel those eyes pulling him to stand and walk to the fence to give her a good scratch between them.

What a blessing that short post brought me this morning. Would I ever have thought about that memory if I hadn't seen those words while sipping my coffee?