Troubles dock at night.
With the dawn, most fear’s moved on.
Raise your sails and smile.
I tend to think too much, and worry even more.
When that happens, I hit the high road.
Yesterday they were gravel, and out in the country.
After Friday’s delicate display of ten inch snowflakes, a radiant sun had returned.
Much like time-lapse photography, the changing landscape before me kept pace with each up tick in the temperature.
Yellow overtones in the grass suddenly surrendered to a brilliant emerald.
Forsythia buds burst bright one by one at high noon.
I decided to stop and visit a local farm to see their newborn lambs.
Sitting down on the hay next to the mother and her babies, I found what I needed this day.
It was a gentle reminder right in front of me to keep looking up, and to smile more.
And I did just that while swallows danced figure eights and cardinals sang serenades as they escorted me back to the main road.
I was traveling much lighter now.
My worries were left floating on a breeze in that old red barn.
I took the day off work, but then I couldn’t relax. My chief worry for my Monday was our good chance of severe thunderstorms hitting by 2:00 pm. In my neck of the woods that means straight line winds and felled trees. I have 30 oaks, pines, and pretty much everything else that grows in the Midwest. Each one measures over 90 feet tall.
Make that 29 trees. I lost one in June.
Summer storms also equal 6 day power outages here. I had one of those last month, too.
My sister and brother-in-law are staying on a lake near me where I spent part of the day with a constant eye to the sky. My sister and I dangled our toes in the water after lunch as I counted the dark storm clouds roll overhead. One, two three, but then I stopped counting. They skipped us entirely.
My brother-in-law was amused by all the wasted energy I spent on worrying. I told him I know I can’t exactly hold the trees up with my bare hands if the wind starts blowing. But for some reason, I feel like I should at least try.
After visiting the lake, I walked in a nearby pasture. I snapped a few pictures, and took one long, deep relaxing breath.
I just got home and see on the news that there are storm warnings again for some northern counties in my state. I’m grabbing my flashlight, just in case.
But this time I’ll try not to worry, at least too much anyway.