The Earth Is Alive

We have had two weeks of sickness around here, and just when I thought we were getting well, it came back to invade my lungs and Grace’s ears.  No sleep. I am so, so, so, so tired.

Nevertheless, yesterday dawned warm and sunny and in hopes of the car motion lulling Grace into a nap, I took the kids to the wildlife refuge.  The motion nearly put me into a nap too, but the effort was worth it when we rounded a bend and found these old friends.

We haven’t seen bison all winter, so finding them at the watering hole really made our day.

It was one of those perfect Oklahoma days, where the near-constant wind had quieted to a breeze, the air carried the coolness of the previous day’s storms, and the sun was warm but not hot.  The first wildflowers are in bloom, and though it took a bit of sleuthing, we finally secured Indian Paintbrush.

These mountains are a refuge to longhorn, and bison, and prairie grasses, but they are also a refuge to my mind.  There’s no cell service, no 3G, and–most significant to me–very little vehicle noise.

I’ve told you we live by a freeway, right?  In an extremely sterile military neighborhood?  I’ve told you we hear cars night and day except for the hours of about 3-6 am on Sundays? (I nearly always awaken during those hours on Sundays because…silence…it startles my brain.)

Up there, everything quiets.  Even the kids quiet.  Sometimes I make the kids seal their lips for whole minutes so we can actually listen to the lowing of the cows and the bending of the grasses.  The earth is alive.  The earth is alive.