Through Colored Glasses

Springtime in the country was the most beautiful time on the dairyfarm. The grass grew thick and deep, green and plush and served as the perfect bed for a teenage girl to lay on her back, gazing at the floating clouds.
As the horse lazily grazed, the blonde haired, blue-eyed kid lay in the breeze and dreamed. The clouds took on many different shapes and sizes, but there was always something in the sky to grab her attention and hold her steadfast with wonder.
The soft bed of plush, new growth felt as comfortable as bed...because it wasn't about that at all. It was about relaxing, clearing the mind and letting life's visions dance through her mind. True, she lived out from the community and had to commute to the high school.
For some, perhaps that would have been a challenge. To her, it was life. The best life. Driving home each day, hearing the kerplunk of the gravel rocks spatting the car as she sailed through the course was a symphony to her. It was the sound of home. That was what she knew.
Rounding the final "S" curve prior to entering the huge gravel drive up to the big 'ol white country home, she'd slow gently and cruise the course while looking out over the bottom land.
A large tank sat right in the crook of the pasture and beyond that, many acres of flat ground that led down the banks of Tehuacana Creek. A long, narrow 'slew' ran through the middle ground of the bottom and always some amount of water in it. Had to be careful though if you rode a horse into it.
The mud was like peanut butter, thick, sticky and would suck a leg deeper into the wet goo. Once a horse hit the mud, a loud pop would explode with each foot lifted from slime and sticky grip. Black, wet, cold mud clinging for life would almost make a good horse founder.
The view from big front porch of the country home was worth the time. You sat upon the steps and slowling raised your eyes from the white board fence around the plush yard and ran the view for thousands of yard to treeline of the old, crooked creek.
Not only did the lazy bottom offer room for horseback riding, hide 'n seek with other horse buds and hidden, secret lairs on the creek, it offered massive hay crops. Her daddy planted hay every spring and it would be harvested in the summer. The very hot, sweaty summer!
Life was the sound of the huge combine mowing the hay and laying it down in straight rows...that enabled the 'bailer' to drive beside it, scoop a bale amount in, shape it into a rectangle and wrap two pieces of bailing wire around it. The rythmical hum of the mower could be heard all the way of the bottom hill into the front yard of the country home.
Captured, baled and encapsulated, the hay would lay until the haulers were hired to go and stack every bale and deliver it to the giant, wide-open hay barn. That's what made the 'fun' for the farmer's daughter. Hay stacks, jumping from the upper tier, playing in the hand built maze of tunnels and some days....sitting among the huge bales of peanut hay with her dog, Rip. Peeling one peanut at a time and killing an afternoon. Crunch and more crunch!
For some, the country was absurd. Country. Huuummpphh...who'd live that far out? Sometimes, those questions were posed to us 'country folk' when we were in the huge metropolis of Bellmead, Texas. I think the Baylor folks had a saying 'bout Bellmead...something like "help the needy in Bellmeady'....so, country to me wasn't bad at all.
When her brother hit the big BU band and became a Frat brother in K-PSi...all of those young men would gather in the middle of the country home...sitting in the living room floor, every spring to watch the biggest event of the year....THE ACADEMY AWARDS.
Yep, some of them were from million dollar families, parents who toured the world or, perhaps, from a place where he was considered fortunate to enter BU. It didn't matter. The country home was just that. Everyone was welcome, the food was wonderful and the hospitality could be matched by none!!
After living in the country, with 300 acres for a playground, city life held no candle. The blonde haired country girl spent her life in education. Through various avenues, connections were made with old high school friends/classmates. Amazingly enough, several of those 'city folk' have ended up living their lives in the COUNTRY! They love it, they have horses, they love nature and more! Imagine...she was the kid on the 'outside' looking in. Now those other kids are in the lap of life!
One of life's lessons for all should be that of respecting and loving all for who they are. It matters not what a person looks like, how they talk or what brand of shirt they dawn for class. Life truly teaches until the end of the road. I hope all of us have enriched ourselves through the years, settled comfortably into the now and understand that friends are what make the world go round.
And, no fear....after all, "He's got the whole world in His hands!"