Too Much Sun

We sat in the field, letting the sun kiss our skin while we watched the butterflies and fairies play, and the wildflowers and grass dance. Our fingers worked to pull up the weeds that were choking the garlic and stealing their food, and in return they thanked us, one by one, with a deep sigh of relief.

At lunch we ate food that was more alive than we were. It made our insides stand up straighter  and our brains spring up higher. We had started to feel it earlier from the air and the soil, and we thought we heard it whispered among the insects and the trees, but now we were sure- it was getting to us.

Things were changing. We were seeing deeper, clearer. It was all connected, we were all connected, everything is connected.

We wandered up the hill, higher and higher, and our bodies started to feel even lighter. The kale spoke to us of the past and the future, and the cows so readily shared with us their essence and ways of being. How intricate, how deep, how universal every little part is.

Back into the woods the trees towered us and stood openly and honestly, not pushing their message onto us, but allowing us to see it and feel it ourselves. The creek hummed, and sang, and sparkled and wished, and we danced along beside it, winding and moving to the rhythm we heard.

Hours passed this way before anyone realized the sun had turned angry and against us, burning us with the same fire that it had kissed us with earlier. The brush was too thick, the trail was too treacherous, and our enthusiasm to continue was dwindling.

Now my body is sore, my skin is hot, my head is aching and I am so painfully aware I did not drink enough water. The highs are too good to give up because of the lows. I am an addict. I can not wait until morning comes, the rooster crows, and I can jump up to milk my cow and get high on farm life again.