There’s a field behind our neighborhood. Carpeted with brome in the summer, scruff in the winter. It’s a magical place where my son, the dog and I walk.
We saw a deer run across the north end the first time we explored the field. We were a few acres south, but we spotted him clear as day. Our eyes followed his white tail and long, bounding strides.
Our part of Kansas is flat. Flatter than Illinois. If there weren’t lines of trees and houses blocking the view, no telling how far you could see.
The field is covered with short, dry grass now. Besides the ground and the wind, there’s nothing but sky. Wide, blue, voluminous sky.
The moon often watches us when we walk the field. Even in sunlight, its bald head nods as we plod along the soft ground.
My son would play there forever if I let him.
In freedom he scampers ahead of me. Kneels. Lifts his arms. Stares down the barrel and through the cross hairs. Imagines sniping enemy troops.
The dog is also at home there. She parts the grass like water and swims. Without warning, she pops straight up and over, jumping like a rabbit. Ears pricked. Her body alert to the possibility of field mice beneath these waves.
Except for the one deer, the only wildlife we’ve seen are small birds. They congregate, hidden in the grass, then spring into flight as we approach. Dozens of tiny, floating kites, cut loose to lift and sail away.
One day, my son called to me from where he crouched. The inflection in his voice danced over the field.
“Mom,” he said. “I found a deer track!”
Sure enough, he’d found one perfect, heart-shaped deer track imprinted in the dried dirt.
We could tell—from the shape of the print, the deer that left it there had been walking. Just like us.
These are the moments I wish I could capture. They bound away, impossible to hold. Photographs don’t do them justice.
Must be what it’s like to walk on the moon.
An ordinary action, walking. Elevated here. Beyond measure in its fullness. Silent. Solitary. Surrounded by nothing but God and ground and sky.
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21 NIV
When I was pregnant with my son, I listened to Beethoven. Relax and savor the tender, magical, masterful strains of Moonlight Sonata.
Double Merrick
The La Lune print featured in today’s post is the work of English designer/illustrator Merrick Angle.
Merrick’s charming prints were a hit when he started selling them on Etsy. One has only to view his art to understand why.
Merrick presently works out of a studio near Limoges in rural France. His online shop, Double Merrick, continues to wow.
Visit his shop to see for yourself and read more of his story. Warning: you may fall in love with what you see.
Love this Aimee!
Thank you, Janice!
I enjoyed the vicarious walk. I am looking forward to my (9-month old) granddaughter reaching an age where we can take slow, priceless, discovering walks. When we take walks now, I’m carrying her, and she usually falls asleep. (These are called “Pawpaw walks”, and they are designed to induce napping so we can work more efficiently at the florist !)Keep capturing these moments, Aimee!
Thanks, Coach A. What a good Pawpaw you are! These are priceless moments indeed.
Oh, but you did capture it, with your words and in your heart.
Thank you, Jolyse.
Beautiful post Aimee; you are an excellent writer. I felt like I was there.
Thank you, Tiffany. You just made my day!
Wow! Great post! I can see Theo running through the field! Tell him to look for arrow heads! I am glad you have such a great place at your new home!
Me too, Christel! I will tell him about the arrowheads. He’d be thrilled to find one!
Sounds like you are in for a lot of beautiful discoveries.
I hope :)
Fabulous post! Yes, I am still here friend. You are churning out stunning posts faster than I can comment!! Have been busy with an “almost” six year old! I loved Unopened, Namaste, and Ducks in a Row!!! This post is dear to my heart. When we moved I cried so hard for the sweet owl we left at my last house. Now we have looked to the nature here to soften our hearts. Quiet time with God and family as we explore the Texas sky and what is has to offer. Different for sure but I can see God’s hand at work.
Did the move perhaps elevate your writing?? Is that possible???
One can always hope, E. lol!
I can’t believe your little one is almost six. The time flies.
Treasure that Texas sky and I’ll treasure the one in Kansas. God’s hand is at work in it all. Love you, lady!
“These are the moments I wish I could capture. They bound away, impossible to hold.”
My friend, this is what you do so well. You capture moments in time, and package them into nuggets of word candy that we all get to enjoy. I argue that they are not impossible to hold, as you do it quite effectively. I am thankful that you do, and find it even more endearing that you do so with humility and grace. Thanks for yet another fantastic post!
Rodney, you are so kind! Thank you again for reading and commenting.
“Word candy.” I’ve not heard that term before. Love it. It is the best way I know how to grab the little toe of the time as it quickly escapes and hold it for just one more minute…