Saturday was a day of new beginnings.
Of course, I was turning the leaf of a new decade. I am now officially 60 years old – although I often thought of the sixtieth year during my fifty-ninth year (or is that really the sixtieth year which culminates in a birthday we call our sixtieth birthday!).
The greater fun of the day was a two hour trip into the lands surrounding our town.
I quickly forget how much I love the prairies. The landscape stretches for miles and the slight undulations of the fields makes for a beautiful pattern. Sometimes a gully or a bluff of trees adds greater contrast. The light hues of brown and orange make for a pleasing sight. Add to that the color of the moon in the evening and you have a great portrait of God’s creation.
But the real fun was stopping to pick our own harvest. Both Cynthia and I are not farmers, nor raised on the farms – although both of us were born into farming families. The opportunity afforded us time to pick a few pods and harvest a few seeds – of lentils and peas and wheat. Nothing like fresh from the ground, unprocessed food. OK, we just had a few seeds – not a meal!
Oh, and then the cinnamon buns we bought. Sticky buns. As we are one outdoors, a fly came by, alighted on the bun and couldn’t get away. Death by syrup!
A good day!
Typically we usually get a few days each wntier when temperatures drop below minus 20 C at night. But in recent years -20 C or lower readings have been scarce.