I've turned back into the "morning person" I used to be. I've been in good spirits, looking forward to each day.
Yesterday morning I worked Libby in the round pen with Blue's saddle on; that went well, considering that saddle is so big it rides forward onto her neck. She tried to figure out a way to ditch in a few times, but finally just gave up and circled the pen, going whichever way I directed her. Then I handled her feet, something I need to get back in the habit of doing daily; because she's been awfully touchy about one back foot. The summer heat has caused me to put her on the back shelf: it's time to make up for that.
In the afternoon I rode Blue along the river bottoms, and I felt the most wonderful sense of freedom and peace. So much so that I broke into "How Great Thou Art" at the top of my lungs. Followed by "When He Was On The Cross (I Was On His Mind)". I'm sure if anyone had seen or heard me, they'd have thought I was mad. I came home and cooled my poor, sweaty horse off with the garden hose.
Finally, I enjoyed a pleasant evening with my grandson.
Lately an inner voice tells me that within two years, all the things that bother me now will have vanished from my life like a puff of smoke. The concerns of today will be forgotten.
Cliff and I have talked about getting a mobile home or some sort of different house on this property in two years. But that wouldn't change any of the irritants here, so I don't think that's what prompted these thoughts.
Something in my spirit simply says things will be different. Let's face it, at my age there are lots of factors, dozens of things that could close one door and open another. Or maybe it's just me that is going to change.
So now the person who always hated change... that would be me... is looking forward with anticipation to whatever sort of vicissitudes come my way.
WAITING
by: John Burroughs (1837-1921)
- erene, I fold my hands and wait,
- Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
- I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
- For, lo! my own shall come to me.
- I stay my haste, I make delays,
- For what avails this eager pace?
- I stand amid the eternal ways,
- And what is mine shall know my face.
- Asleep, awake, by night or day,
- The friends I seek are seeking me;
- No wind can drive my bark astray,
- Nor change the tide of destiny.
- What matter if I stand alone?
- I wait with joy the coming years;
- My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
- And garner up its fruit of tears.
- The waters know their own and draw
- The brook that springs in yonder height;
- So flows the good with equal law
- Unto the soul of pure delight.
- The stars come nightly to the sky;
- The tidal wave unto the sea;
- Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
- Can keep my own away from me.