This has been my view of the farm since Thursday and I have thrilled and danced in my soul as I looked at it.
It’s not the Redwoods. It’s not a view like Half Dome and Yosemite. It’s not Hatteras. Or Ouray, Colorado. It’s not Yellowstone National Park. It’s not a quaint French village. It’s not a manicured garden. It’s not a scenic overlook or beautiful byway. It’s not grandiose.
But what it IS…………IS HOME.
I’m realizing more this year, just how beautiful and lovely and gorgeous a freshly drilled wheat field is to me. The prepared earth and the furrows and straight lines left by the drill. Just look so closely at the detail.
The wind quit blowing and we had the air turn around and come in from the north bringing cool and freshness and perfect, perfect weather.
Sunshine. Cool air. Today was perfection.
And I’ve just rejoiced every time I looked at the view of the fresh-drilled wheat by my house and the green and yellow splashes of my farmer man’s tractors and the crisp, brilliance of the blue sky.
Autumn knows how to show off. Letting loose of summer is easier, because of it!