Fields of gold

The frantic pace of working on the guestudio has finally slowed down. We have had our first official guests stay with us, and since their departure, we haven't felt the need to push so hard to get on with the finishing touches. Several weeks ago, though, we were still working hard on the place during our off-hours from work. One beautiful Sunday I decided I HAD to take time off and go enjoy the beautiful weather we were having. I needed to be alone with the wind and the sun and the crickets and the birds, to recharge my batteries.

I took my camera along with me, of course, and took lots of pictures of the beautiful golden grasses, but I also spent a lot of time just sitting. Absorbing. Appreciating. Admiring. Amazed.

There was a delightful breeze, and as I sat in the sunny field, I noticed the hundreds of cobwebs that were streaming to and fro among the seed heads of the grass. Not those big round-and-round shaped-webs you normally think of, but simple strands. The grasses, upon close inspection, were all encased in the delicate streamers, some of them even tied together by the webs.

I crawled around among the grasses, and spent long minutes on my belly taking photos at all different angles. My nose picked up hints of clover, and even though the grass had not been cut for many weeks, it smelled fresh despite its age.

While the notion of sitting alone - just sitting and being - in a field (or in the woods, or on the water) for any amount of time would seem strange to some, it is an activity that I relish, and I wish I could do it all day. The longer I sit, the calmer I feel, and the more connected I feel, both to the earth and to myself.

Sitting is a passive activity, but even though my body is not doing much, my mind is quietly churning and digesting. Depending on what I am contemplating, I might even consider it to be a form of play. I do, after all, consider it to be "fun" when I am doing it in this capacity. It's a type of fun I would encourage everyone to engage in.