Fixing Fences

One of the best days for me was an afternoon we went to help Tiny fix fences.  It was almost an afterthought, something we did to take part when not much else was going on.  Mom had gone to the museum in town, so JT, Tiny, the girls and I drove out a gravel road to a pasture where they were planning to put out some cattle.  But we had to mend the fences to get the field ready. 

I learned a lot about how to put in a fence, how it needs to be bolstered, and how much patience you need to do a job right.  The best part was the quiet.  All we could hear was the birds and insects.  A Western Meadowlark followed us with a gorgeous song. He watched us from fencepost perches, as interested in us as we were in him.  

  JT and the girls sat in the back of the truck laughing and comparing stories.  JT tried to get Callie to eat a grasshopped, but I don't think he found much success.  

They were fed by sunshine and comradery instead.

And I learned to talk to the mountain.  "She will tell you many stories," said Tiny.  So I listened and I felt a wave of calm take over my whole being.  The day filled me with a spirit I have brought home, and I think back to that day often when I need a little reminder that the world is big and old.  The mountain has been there long before me, and she will stand long after I am gone, and she watched over our human shenanigans with grace and patience.