Day VI

We stared the day talking about 19th century farming, and made poems/short stories about something on the farm. I chose a short story:

They wake quickly, used to the early calls of the roosters, awaiting their feed. They slide off their dingy excuse for a mattress, splashing a bit of water on their face to wash off the remaining fatigue and slide on their ragged clothes. They feel their way through the pitch black house, for dawn has yet to strike. They consider lighting a candle, but they’d rather save them for an emergency. Shrugging, they continue on towards the font of the house. They stop by a separate bed room, peaking in, they whisper the child’s name.

The child stirs, but only groans in response. A gentle smile spreads on the parent’s lips, their child being the only thing out here that still can make them do that without force. Sighing, they enter the room and place a tinder kiss on the toddler’s forehead before leaving the room. Finally, they reach the kitchen, where they fix two servings of scrambled eggs and toast and split a large grape fruit in half, one half for their child, and one half for them. They place a plate in front of one chair and a plate in front of the chair across from them…the chair between the two continues to remain empty.

Looking out the window, they notice the black sky start to turn a dark blue and the stars disappearing. A warning sign as the day begins. They quickly grab the last of the oranges from the fridge, making a mental note to pick a few more today, and squeeze them into a pitcher. They strain away the pulp and seeds and pour two tall, cold glasses of fresh orange juice. They pair them with the plates and lean against the counter and wait.

Just as the first few rays of light peak through the misty windows, a small, drowsy looking child with messy hair dragging a handmade, faded yellow blanket, stumbles around the corner. It sniffs the air and puts on a crooked smile as they reach for their parent. They sigh and smile before picking them up and swinging them around, then holding them close. Their child giggling with glee.

“Good morning, love.”

As the day continued, we took a trip to Carriage Hill Farm. I had been there so many times when I was younger, most of it was old to me. That is, except the creek. I had never been there before, let alone walk in it. But that is exactly what we did, but since I didn't have a pair of sandals, I had to walk around barefoot until my feet dried.

I over all enjoyed the experience, being the fact that it really made me pay attention to my surroundings. The natural lighting blanketed everything in a beautiful golden glow, including me. It was very warm and comforting and put me almost at ease.