I have always loved the quiet. Opening my windows on a cool day and listening to the water tumble over the rocks in my back yard. There are many benefits of living in the country and one of them is being able to just sit and listen to the sounds of nature. During the day birds fluttering around talking to one another and at night the bullfrog and crickets serenading me with their symphony. And often times as I sit in the shadows of the fading afternoon sun, with a slight breeze in the air, I can hear the voice of the wind whispering my name, taking me back to simpler times of my youth.
It's funny how memories assault our senses. A sound or smell or just the way the shadows hit the ground in the different seasons of the year can bring us back to a time in our past. As a little girl I was fortunate enough to be raised in the country, although I wished to be living in a neighborhood full of other kids to play with. However, as I grew older I began to appreciate the solitude of country living. I was practically an only child, with my only sibling being fifteen years my senior, so obviously there was no fighting or rivalry going on to occupy my time. I, instead found my pleasure in reading books or coloring with broken colors that were kept in an old shoe box.
On this particular day in mid-January, when other people are bundled up with coats and hats, I sit here with my windows open to the breeze that flutters in on this 60 degrees day that feels more like autumn than winter. It's one of those days where daydreaming is called for and it brings to mind a time when I was just a child preparing for an adventure. Putting on my sweater and Keds tennis shoes. Striking out for an adventure that consisted of picking up pecans. My mother and I would drive over to my aunt and uncle's pasture that boasted of more pecan trees than it did horses. If I close my eyes, I can still hear the tires of our white Pontiac rolling over the gravel driveway that would end at a place that I knew well. A place where I learned to feed sugar cubes to ponies and then hefted up for a little ride. But on this day's adventure we would show up with plastic ice cream buckets in hand and would wander around for the entire afternoon in the shadows of the pecan grove, seeing who could fill their bucket to the top first. By today's standards it doesn't sound like a very exciting adventure because of course, there was no one there to entertain me, but oh how I love the way this memory makes me feel. It invokes feelings of a carefree, simpler time of peace and happiness that things cannot afford.
I recently read a book entitled, "No Other Gods" which truly opened my eyes to what things have become for us in today's society. It begs the question, "What are your gods?" And if we take an honest look at ourselves, with motive to change for the better, we can find many of them I'm ashamed to admit. Reading this book has helped me step back and show gratitude not for things, but for people and the memories I can make with them. For in the end, it is the fond memories that will bring a smile to our face, a laugh in our belly and comfort to our heart. Ask yourself again..."Is more better..."
Snapshot of me with my uncle sitting atop this little Shetland pony which I referred to as "mine". It was at his pasture where my mother and I picked up pecans.