Up A Creek

With sunshine and shadows we checked out the creek.  Actually this would be called a branch.  It carries the over flow from one pond and is feed by wet weather springs along the way.  As the weather turns dry the levels lower but the beauty remains.

Junior with reflection and Ki-Anne explores the opposite bank.

I ditch the shoes to feel the power from the ground and the water.

Difficult to read JR's mind

but I know Lil is considering this log for it's possibilities of becoming her stick.

The water slows but the moss still grows

A Parchment of Leaves by Silas House says, "God's Creek was a pretty place that held noise within its closeness like a voice in a cupped hand."  I listened to the beauty in the noise and though our creek or branch has no name, it is plainly God's Creek.

The water bugs danced in celebration.

Follow Your Toes

Winter with shoes has softened my feet I discovered quickly as I waded through a few gravel beds.  I found myself seeking sand and softer walking.  I had to go slower than last summer. I lose my balance easier.  Soon I may need a staff to navigate the creek beds but not yet.

The Heal All plant has a good stand this year.

The Spittlebugs or baby Froghoppers

hide within the safety of their own froth 

until they transform from nymph to an adult. 

It was a good day to follow my toes.

In The Beginning

 I gathered

 separated

 cleaned

and dismantled with a plan.

Hubby found the perfect board in the barn behind our lumber stack.  It was a piece of Dad's old cattle salt trough.  I used a wire brush to remove the saw dust from years of exposure to salt while Hubby used his grinder to remove the brads on the old television legs.

The wood grain was beautiful.

A wire brush was used to clean all.  No paint but I can add that later if I want.  What is it?  I did all that just to have a place to throw my shoes when I come in muddy and dirty from outside.

I attached the old television legs for boot holders

The dirt stops here.

I just need to clean the footwear.

Shoes or Feet

for Poetry Jam

I got my boots
I got my sandals
I love bare feet
If I have ta ramble

I reconnect with nature
From all around
Draw power
When bare feet meet the ground

I don't understand it
I don't ask why
My soles smile
As I watch the sky

The power courses
From soles to head
Renews my soul
Leaving peaceful retread

Don't need high heel shoes
Or thousand dollar boots
I'm styling in the bare
Keeping in touch with my roots

Footwear...

is as varied as my hats

My, oh, S**t, the valley's flooding boots

My Ariats going to build a tree stand with Hubby

Also known as my

"what the hell am I doing on the roof?" boots

My new boots testing the creek

My bare feet

after I gave up on these.

Socks and flip flops...I think it was winter

My long-lived boots with repairs

My retired boots

Extra new boots just in case

Fixing culvert boots

Snow boots.

My footwear varies job to job, not always appropriate for the job but they work as we continue to work At The Farm.

Thursday's Things In A Row...

Pat has caused my addiction,

by creating this weekly theme.

Hop on the Rows wagon

and join the team!

Speaking of teams,

you'll need some shoes,

rows and rows, like age fourteens do.

When the weather's hot

 or when it's cold

DP's my drink,

 I can't let go.

Rows of admissions,

rows of pills,

camera's not wide enough

for the row of bills.

A row of tractor tracks,

always At The Farm,

need the equipment

but sometimes, they do harm.

A row of faded ribbons

from past horse shows,

Will I ever show again,

Who knows?

Oh, my friend, Pat,

to thee I tip my hat.

Your creation is my downfall,

you're stuck with me, rows and all.