the shadows of home.

I had to walk. It had been a long weekend and I needed the cold air to brush up against me and the breeze to blow over me - maybe even through me. I needed the first-calf heifers to watch me make my way down the road from home to them. I needed to see the view from a different angle. Don't we all need to see the view from a different perspective at least once a day?!

They were at one of my favorite places. The place that I can stand and see the river, the train tracks, the foothills covered with a blanket of snow, and when I remember to turn around, home. Home being the highest point and often the place I can't see past.

This is feed ground that gives me a different perspective. The place I can go and forget about my floors that need to be mopped, or the piles of sweatshirts and jeans that need to b be washed. The space that my heart usually needs on the days where the to-do list doesn't seem to get shorter, but increases with each tick of the second hand.

And so I walk. I keep my distance. I watch the protective mamas guard their babies with every ounce of strength they have. They watch me and I watch them - with this appreciation and admiration of sorts for all that it takes to be that mama that we all want to be. The brave one. The careful one. The one that is enough.
I sit down in the brush on a flat rock and watch ... and as the shadows grow longer and the temperatures drop a bit, my soul quietly waits.

My feet push against the dirt. They climb through the barbed wire. They head toward home.

Yes, when the shadows lengthen to the point that shadows are all there are, I head for home. I make my way back to my calling. The place I'm needed most and the place I need most as well.

The fresh air and different angles did their job. The sun sets, and I step back into my role as mom, wife, housekeeper extraordinaire with a refreshed spirit.

I'm made for this.

There's no doubt about it.