Our Pasture, PawPaw, Madison County, NC 04/20
These days
With time suspended
Not knowing one day from the next
Mind muddled from the effort of keeping track
Easily confused
Surrendering to the lethargy.
Why bother?
I mean, will we even be here in a year, six months?
Solace comes from our pasture and
The woods around it.
The daily changes in light and tone.
Bursts of green after a rain
Followed by heavy mists that give the Smokey Mountains their name.
Drought that drives even the grass to crackle.
The longer movements come season to season.
The deep shadows of fall that open to
The long visions of winter.
The smell of spring.
The breathlessness of summer.
Yet for all the change,
Both long and short,
There is the sense that
Nothing changes.
Maybe this is particular to the time in which we are living.
But what if it isn’t?
What if it will always be as it is now?
What if it always has been?