Friday, May 11, 2012

From the hills

Because I'm busy from dawn to dusk today, watching a pinning, a graduation, a celebration of a newly capped nurse, I thought I'd post a few pictures from where I so often write. Today (which is Thursday--I'm writing this ahead) my sister's dog and I walked  through a newly seeded field to the top of the hill behind her house (hmm, am I even supposed to walk on a newly seeded field?). The wind was fierce up there. Even Jake stopped wanting to chase the ball I was throwing for him and huddled at my feet. My ears were burning with the cold, though the sun was out and the sky Palouse blue.  But the view of the undulatinig hills was gorgeous in every direction, and worth the walk.  So imagine, if you will, that wind accompanies these photographs, that there is a silence unknown to all of you who have spent your life in cities, or along rivers and seashores. Only the wind makes sound here, or the occasional bird, or a car one can hear a mile down the gravel road.  This is country. Deep country. You can't find it unless you know where you're going, you can't get here unless you've been here before. That silence can take us back to how life was before machines, practically to the dawn of time itself.

I wanted all of you who think that wheat is only grown in the flat, that tractors and combines can never climb hills will see what is possible in this place I call my childhood home. Not only possible but beautiful, because to me, it is. As beautiful as creation always is.

To be fair, next week one day (if the day itself is fair) I'll wander around my adult hometown and take some pictures of a different beauty. A lush and varied one, with water and trees and mountains and city noise.  It'll be worth the journey. See you there.

1 comment:

E said...

I always love pictures of these hills!