Farming...

is not just planting and animals.  There is also maintenance of the land.  The water washes its way naturally but we have ruined its path so when water comes, it takes the natural path.  When that path crosses our unnaturalness there is bound to be damage.

Limestone

abounds.

and a need arises to rearrange them.

Water will change its course

if you persuade it.

The rain cuts deep when it hits clay.

Nature or man writings?

Ignore the foot, dirty from the walk,

see the size of the hoof print.

I could hear deer snorting

in their hiding spot.

I was in search of an old spring I remembered from childhood.  This is not our property now but touches it.  I could view it from the edge of the road.  In this grown up hollow, I remember clear water rolling to the road ditch.  Hogs used to be pastured here and always had fresh running water. 

Today I could not see nor would I dare to look.  It is snake weather and I am short clad in flip flops.  Yet, I wonder, does the spring of my youth still run?  I hear the dogs splash in water and I have renewed hope it does.

Some water runs beneath the willow buttons.

I find proof that the spring still lives.