Life in the country
Wednesday, November 11th, 2009I woke up this morning much like every other morning. 10 minutes before the alarm clock. Another 10 minutes of sleep robbed from me.
I stumble into the kitchen to make the morning coffee and look out the widow that’s over the sink. There she is. Like every morning for the past 2 years Annabel is standing by the water trough staring at me. I have no idea why but she starts her day off the same way. She stares at me for a few minutes, moo’s and then walks off to the south west corner of the pasture. That side just happens to meet up with my neighbor’s horse pasture and where my neighbor dumps her leftover hay when she refills her bails for the horses. Annabel will wait patently for her morning leftovers and then she wanders the pasture. When I get home she meanders over to see if I have a treat for her and then she goes back to her spot next to the horses. I’m not sure if this is social hour but it is a routine for her.
I thought to myself how sad it must be to have your day so repetitive, so scheduled. I then walked to the chickens and threw them some scratch. Went into the house and started supper. The same things I do everyday. So much so it is as if I’m on autopilot.
While at the sink peeling potatoes I looked out to see Annabel playing with the goats. Kinda like a parent playing with their kids. It seems me and Annabel have more in common than I had ever thought. Our biggest difference is the size of our pasture. I run from one end of mine to the other. I have a routine similar to hers and find myself sharing the same simple pleasures of a good meal, a quiet sunset and time with loved ones. Perhaps Annabel’s day isn’t so sad. After all what else do I need but these simple things?
My kids would tell you plenty they need. The latest Youtube video sensation, a new game for the play station or texting their friends. The list is almost endless for them just as it was when I was a child.
It took many years for me to understand that none of these things that seemed so important could replace the beauty and simplicity of the views from my porch. Watching the last of the leaves blow off the black walnut tree. Seeing the dog chasing a chicken around the side of the house, then watching the rooster chase the dog back around to the other side. The shadow of the barn slowly working its way across the field until it fades into the darkness of the night. Kids chasing fireflies and watching the same spider build its web for the 100th time this summer. All the things I used to be too young to care about and too busy to be concerned for are now some of my favorite things and most precious memories.
After spending the first half of my life rushing through it I think I’ll spend the last half sitting on my porch enjoying it.
Thanks BWH for helping me achieve my goal.
Aaron Roots and family
Warrensburg, Missouri
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