Friday Farm Favorites: The Beauty Before Us
Volunteer sunflower in the garden
Green Hill Farm
“When we come upon beautiful things….they act like small tears in the surface of the world that pull us through to some vaster space.”
We have had a lot of rain this summer. I’m talkin’ forty days, forty nights kinda rain. It’s rained so much that I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see an ark in the garden. I mean, we’ve got grass growing where it doesn’t usually grow—in the driveway, in the mulch of the flower beds, in the chickens’ aviary. Plus, the grass in the sheep pasture is more lush and green than it was in the spring. The sheep are constantly wet; I even think their wool is starting to felt.
It’s been a bit dreary, too. And, after a while, all that gray can really get to a girl. This time of year is usually my favorite. The heat and humidity have broken, and the sky is the most vibrant color of blue. The lilies and roses are still blooming, and the garden is a lovely place. But, not this year.
Yesterday, I looked out the window, and the grayness covered the backyard and fields like a blanket. My garden, which is usually fairly neat and weed-free, resembled something more along the lines of a jungle. However; as I glanced across the overgrown expanse, something bright and cheerful caught my eye. It was a lone, volunteer sunflower that had popped up under the bird feeder. It stood there in all its cheerful, sunny radiance—tall and straight, amid the grayness. And, my heart was gladdened.
Here’s the thing: Life will certainly serve up gray days. But…there is always light in the world. It’s just up to us to see it.