It was time to take the long one-lane highway and see what was in the old stomping grounds. Those are the fields, - surrounded by forests to one side and at the end, - and half way through the other- and also a farmer`s field- rich, textured, deeply green and wide and long as if in a dream. The clouds were moody, - and against logic and rationale, silently loquacious. They moved about and around,- rambling and shambling their darkness saying there is a storm here, now there, now not here and not there, but over that way- North- South- NNE, SSW, et cetera. For this reason we went, for this very reason- into the ominous afternoon. Chances are you won`t finds the rain, - it moves about like the fifth dream of the night- slippery, vague, mercurial…
Soon we were going into the field and the train whistle sounded far behind, - about a
from the range. After the train- nothing. Just the silent paths. Some water seemed to splash on the sides of us- just like the sea, like the ocean, like the lake- though there is no body of water there- not really even anything that could do that anyhow. It was the rain coming from North. Large drops. But soft. We kept on. It’s good to feel a little rain sometimes. The place was vacant- the flowers somehow at attention when they should have been wilted for the heaviness of the water that had splashed though there during the night and even hours before.
A helicopter came from the left, - just like in a movie, - and made its way over the field and then disappeared in the sky behind the tree line in far front. Then just us again. The world and its sounds, numbers, nuisances, noises, petty problems, - all of it- gone behind. It was like being on a good astral plane or even further. Some butterflies, many moths, a few crestfallen trees and their branches, and how tall the wild grasses had grown in a few weeks! - Up and up the ridge way the dogs go, - and look to survey the entire scope and breadth of the land. There is nobody and not a fox or coyote- the tails are up, confidence is high- allergies or spider bites and other are over. It is a new day as we watch each other, - as they run- then stop and look round.
It is a new day as I see the drops of water waiting on the leaves of wildflowers, - or the small grasshopper, the old spider webs, - and other.
Yes. A new day.