112 I Love ... sound eyes closed

Outside sound.

As I sit here with my eyes closed,

I can hear the world.

You can hear so much better

with your eyes closed.

I am hearing what must be 

a pigeon.

Cooing. Cooing.

Non-stop.

I will make it a Turtle Dove.

That sounds so much more

pleasing 

than a 

pigeon.

It's cooing sometimes changes

in intensity

where I might think it is a 

tiny, miniature cow.

Mooing.

Not cooing.

Sometimes it sounds 

like it is in labour.

Coo softly

pigeon or cow.

Coo

like a

turtle dove.

I hear the wind.

It sounds like I am at

the sea.

It is tide-like;

rythmically

swishing through the tree tops.

I hear wings flapping.

Like a helicopter.

I have to open my eyes

to see 

what makes such a noise.

Crows.

No - ravens.

That sounds more

pleasing.

111 I Love .... summer evenings on the Farm

Of all the days 

that I have spent on our farm,

it is those

early summer evenings

when I wander around

or just sit on

the back porch

that are engrained
deeply
in my memory.

110 I Love ... the sun on my face in Springtime.

Closing my eyes,

face towards the sun

and looking at my eyelids.

Head back.

Face turned upward.

Sunset red
through my eyelids.

Warmth on my skin.

A gentle breeze

softly sweeping any heat away

and just keeping me

warm.

A warmth

that travels through me,

making me grateful

for

another spring.

109 I Love ... sitting in some weirdly random place

I have sat this day
in the sunshine in a spot that I have never sat in the almost two dozen years
that we have lived here ...
 behind the barn on the cement pad,
 right beside a big pile of accumulated winter manure.

Yes. Donkey Exrement.

Yes. It's a tad bizarre.
For sure.

But the sun is beating down on me
 and it feels glorious.

And I dont mind the smell of donkey poop at all.
It's ab earthy, homey,
 almost comforting fragrance to me.

 I realize that I may basically alone in that observation.

 But that's okay.

 And so is sitting
 in a completely weird and random place. 

It works.

It's Good Friday.
It's ususally gray and suitably dismal this day;
 like the world is in mourning.
And so it should be.

This day is new life.
 And so I chose to spend my quietly,
 beginning this with great gratitude 

for my simple ability to
 Love.

108 I Love ... baby animals at play

Watching baby animals play.

Kittens

rolling and chasing,

hiding and pouncing.

Pupplies

running after children.

And 

their tail.

Baby donkeys

running

and

running.

Bouncing like Tigger.

Calves

and

lambs

and

baby goats.

Now, baby goats -

they know how to play.

Standing on their back legs,

running at each other,

heads sideways

then

WHAM.

And do it again.

It's wonderful to see the

life,

the energy,

the sheer joy

of movement.

Of play.

Not the 

slow trod,

the limp,

the plodding 

of us

old dogs.

107 I Love ... Ransom laying

It's April 30th, 2012.

I have once again gone in a search of 

a warm spot

on a chilly day.

A breezy spring afternoon where 

it's only reach 9 degrees.

I have discovered that behind the barn 

right next to the old stone wall,

the sun beats best.

I brough my creative journal and this one,

and have written,

letting Ransom has his freedom to 

graze away from the rest of the herd.

He's my special friend.

The sun made me sleepy.

I didn't want to cut Ransom's grazing time short,

so I just laid down where I was.

I shut my eyes.

I heard a noise close by.

There he was
laying
close to me.

I felt a great trust and comfort
with my faithful old friend.

106 I Love ... sultry nights

The kind where the air

just hangs.

It's confirmation to me

that I have a 

Southern soul.

I envsion lie oaks

with moss dripping from the branches.

Still, heavy air 

that wraps you up 

like a blanket.

It makes me want to stay up

all night

and sit on the back porch.

There is a hush

over the world on those nights.

It speaks to me of quiet.

Stillness.

It somehow speaks more to me 

of the past

than the present.

I think of our summer nights 

at the racetrack in the States.

No need ever for a sweater.

That is my favourite kind of

summer night.

One that I wish

would last so much longer.

Nights like that are a gift.

Few and far between

some years.