While riding home after a visit with our daughter last August, I was moved by the sights we passed on the highway, and was inspired to write a little poem.
The asphalt ribbon lies ahead,
Mile upon country mile.
Field and sky melt together,
On the distant prairie horizon.
Pumpjacks bow toward the earth,
Urging the ground to surrender its treasure.
Crops of canola, sunflowers, and grain,
Lift their golden heads toward the sun.
Rail cars await the prairie bounty,
To share with neighbours far and wide.
Weathered barns sag, abandoned,
Left to rot in the sun, wind, and rain.
We pass these familiar scenes,
As we make our way home.
Our prairie home.
During this time of social distancing, I’m glad that we can still enjoy a walk outdoors on a sunny day. Here are a few sights that induced a smile during the last days of March.
Above, a photo of an outdoor tableau. The small windmill was no more than four feet tall. I’m sure this spot looks great in the summer, surrounded by plants and flowers.
Usually, these Christmas decorations are gone by the end of March. Was someone trying to spread a little cheer during these concerning times?
A cute Little Library. This one was tiny, but full!
It’s too early for this garden to be planted, but the gardener seems to be anticipating a good crop of weeds!
I know I’ve posted frosty views from the prairies already this winter, but when my daughter sent me this photo, I knew I wanted to share it with my fellow bloggers. Believe it or not, a whole town is hidden behind this heavy curtain of fog.
Harvest time on the prairies–a time of golden crops, and azure skies. The yield, so dependent on the weather, is finally calculated. Will it be a good year?
And hay bales sit in rows, waiting to be picked up and stored for the winter, to fill the needs of the livestock.