Visiting the farm,
pulling up to some barns and stepping out
smelling animals,
grass and fresh air reminds me of ‘real’ life.
Those cats
hanging around,
shaking a friendly farmer’s hand
and the presence of good, olde,
down-to-earth Jamie
sporting rubber boots and an oversized long-sleeved shirt
seem “real to me”.
Then time somehow stops in its mysterious sort of way.
Here
I am without an agenda.
A place just to ‘be’.
Just to ‘be’ outdoors –
to smell
the smells, to observe creatures, to hold the babies,
and simply talk with good
folk.
These are the times I feel most alive.
These are the ‘real’ moments of
life.
Why times like this just ‘being’ on the farm feel so real?
No-one really
knows?
Perhaps it’s the intensity of using all the sense with each breath.
Perhaps it’s the freedom from society’s binding time.
Perhaps cuz there’s a
part in each of us that knows
there’s something to this life that each of us
was meant for.
