I am walking down an old farm road.
Birds are everywhere, twittering from the bushes and the tall trees. The wind moves gently through the grass, the shrubs, the branches overhead. Butterflies flit across the field. Insects buzz softly. The air is warm against my skin, still holding the heat of the afternoon sun. It hangs low in the west now, while far off the sky deepens into a grey-blue, heavy with the promise of a thunderstorm.
As I near the river, its sound comes to meet me first—the gurgle and rush of moving water. I pause on the cement bridge and search for a stone among the gravel. I find one, pick it up, and cast it downstream, watching as it plops into the water and disappears. I don’t know why I do this, but it feels good.
I cross the bridge and follow the gravel road up to a place I know well. A single tree stands there, silhouetted against the sky. I have walked here many times before. This spot holds quiet. It holds memory.
I think of the year that has passed—of people who have come and gone, of other walks along this same road, taken in different moods, under different skies. Today feels different. Today there is a sense of freedom, a calmness inside me that matches the beauty of the land at its best.
This is the afternoon before Christmas Eve. Tomorrow will bring festivities on the farm, voices and laughter. For now, there is only this.
I stop on the side of the hill and sketch the tree, the rocks, the road. Drawing pulls me closer to the moment. I notice more—the shapes, the lines, the feeling of being here, fully present, with what I see and what I feel.
When I turn back along the gravel road toward the farmhouse, the first drops of rain touch my skin. Far out on the horizon, thunder rolls. The rain is coming. I quicken my pace, and as I go, I spot a fresh porcupine quill beside the road and pick it up to carry with me.
I reach the farmhouse just as the heavy afternoon downpour begins.
It is moments like this that stay with me. Moments like this that I cherish. And I always wonder when I will walk this quiet, beautiful gravel road again.
