Two nights ago this field was awash with purple and spring green grasses. Shoulder-high and flexing with the breeze. Kell and I watched them sway on an evening walk. We paused to enjoy the swallows as they climbed high in the air and then dramatically plunged to the ground.
Today I noticed that the field had been plowed. I'm not sure how I should feel about this since I don't know why it was done. Perhaps there's a fine and good reason. But I do miss the tall blades. Watching them waltz with the wind. They smelled good--they smelled wild. Tonight they smelled like a newly-mowed front lawn. Domesticated. The swallows remain though. I sat to watch them perform their bedtime dance again. A heron made an appearance as well...spearing and gulping down a dinner of frog.
Perhaps the shearing is good for the field--part of its cycle. But the excavator at its edge can't be a good sign.
What wilderness lies in your backyard?
3 comments:
My backyard wilderness has a mouse, two squirrels, several doves, a family of quail and numerous finches! Plus a dog, cat and kid! Love ya sweetie!
These fields seem less and less frequent. I remember our moms saying "Oh, that used to be a big field..." and I thought, that's nice, but that's the way things go. Progress is surely bittersweet sometimes, no?
Indeed, Lou. I remember much "field talk" when we were youngsters. I think as humans we sometimes misunderstand the definition of "progress" though. I'd rather have swallows than yet another business park.
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