an unexpected evening
Just a lovely kind of evening a mother of eight rarely gets. Six of my children at a Community event. One newly minted big sister out on a Daddy date of pink ice cream and sparkle shoes. My squeaky newborn rocking blissfully asleep in her cradle. I looked around my strangely quiet home. I forget how a sleeping baby deepens the quiet to a house. It makes the peace almost tangible… it makes the stillness hang in the air. It’s a holy kind of quiet… not to be disturbed.
Out with the setting sun I went to visit with my old friend.
A pile of weeds grew beside me.
The acute hearing a momma acquires when she is where her sleeping baby isn’t.
The smell of freshly turned soil.
The rattle of seed packets.
The barn swallows dipping on the fields current.
A basket of bronze skinned onions.
The hush of a baby sleeping by the open window.
The feeling of accomplishment as a fall garden is tucked into cleaned out beds.
The rarity of a solo walk around the little farm.