Five miles west of me, a state park. To get there, a two lane road. A couple of small subdivisions on my right, surrounded by farms and fields. Pretty much nothing but farms and fields on my left.
The last hour or so of daylight, my favorite time to be there. I do it often. An old metal barn structure of some kind on the edge of a restored prairie. Lit up with the last of the light, warm, gold, reds, browns, blue, white and a slight touch of green.
I know when the sun goes away it will just be old steel, rust, fading paint, no life to it, but for now it glows.
On the edge of the field standing waist deep in grasses. Weeds, I guess. A line of trees, light with no light, just black silhouettes of trees and ground.
Beyond the tree line, endless sky and endless ground.
“Do you ever get lonely?” my daughter once asked.
No, not at all. Too much to see, to much to do even if it’s doing nothing. Don’t need other people around for that.
They distract me from finding things.
I was missing Dave though, on this day. Dwelling on it a bit. Miss the phone calls, the conversations. Miss his take on the world. Would have been nice to share this on this day.
Missing something isn’t loneliness, I don’t think. There’s a difference between loneliness and just being alone. In this case, alone with a big gaping hole where there used to be something important.
walt
5 Nov 2012There’s a sunset warmth and color to it– iron age rust, the human heart, the backlit trees….
Ken G
5 Nov 2012Walt, didn’t want to go home till all that warm color was gone. Nearby there’s a bow range, one guy shooting arrows. At the end he was doing what I was doing, just standing and watching. He left in time for me to have the whole place to myself. Needed that more than anything.