The Simple Life

I took a walk tonight. Normally, when I have time to get out of the house and away from my work, I meander through town, window-shop a little bit to see what the store owners are displaying this week, and do some people-watching. Once in a blue moon, I stop at Palatini's Eis Cafe for a single dip ice cream in a small crisp waffle cone. When I treat myself to Palatini's, I pick the creamiest caramel you can imagine or a flavor called Boccia, which tastes of creamy chocolate and toasted hazelnuts. I'm easily overwhelmed when it comes to choosing what flavor I want and Palatini's offers so many flavors I could come back every night for a month and try something new. But I try to steer clear of Palatini's as much as possible because I know I would find myself standing in front of the ice cream case far too often, if I'm not careful.

Tonight, since the idea of wandering through town is boring, I decided to walk in the other direction-- toward the farms. I have been enamored with farms all my life. The field of mustard plants is still growing but the five foot high plants are now only green and the bright, yellow, honey-scented flowers have died back. It appears the farmer who grows the mustard planted additional crops several weeks ago and now rows of cabbage, kohlrabi, red lettuce and green lettuce have joined the mustard.

The three beautiful horses I often see an older farm hand walking in the evenings are being brought into their stalls for the night. In order to catch the older gentleman taking the horses for an evening walk, I must be out near the farms around 6:30 in the evening. There's something beautiful about watcing this average-sized man, with the short, graying hair and weathered skin calmly walking along with these three beautiful creatures. The horses are large draft horses and could easily drag the man across every field in sight, but they don't. He holds their bridles, the four of them walk slowly together, in no hurry to do anything more than enjoy their walk, while I hang back to prolong the view.

As I turn left at the curve in the gravel road, I hear young boys playing soccer in the field to the right and, to my left, I see the steeples of the old church off in the distance. More farm fields cover the land to my right. The brown sugar-colored soil is loose and dry from the lack of rain we've had these past few weeks and I see green beet leaves sprouting out of the tops of the beets. Tiny red veins in the leaves tell me these are beets, even though the blood red beets haven't started poking their way through the soil. I am not a lover of beets, but I know others in the area will be happy when these can be purchased, freshly picked, from the market in town.

The old white church sits at the far lefthand corner. It's my signal that I've arrived at the gravel path, lined on both sides with poplar trees that reach toward the evening sky. "Siebenschmerzenweg" says the street sign. Translated, the sign is telling me that the tree-lined gravel path is referred to as "Seven Sorrows Way". If I'd never been down this path before, I might be hesitant to walk a path in the middle of nowhere named Seven Sorrows Way. It's the first time I notice the sign, but not my first time down the path and I instantly know why it's called Seven Sorrows Way. Along the path are seven religious statues made of stone, bronze....beautifully sculpted, carved, and built. Each statue depicts a different religious scene involving Christ and his sufferings. I'm not a religious person, but I admire the beauty, the craft, and workmanship.

Wheat grows on the right side of the path, still green and young, waving in the wind. Now I know I have a beautiful golden wheat field to look forward to in the Fall. Along the left side of the path, the mustard flowers die back but have been joined by wild thistle. The spiky, thorn-covered purple flowers protect themselves from animals, but the birds hop through the field without a care, picking up seeds for their evening meal.

I'd always dreamed of living on a farm. And, while I don't live on a farm now, I'm lucky to have them right around the corner. Choosing to head in the opposite direction tonight was a good decision. Sometimes in the midst of inner-chaos, we find peace in the simplicity that surrounds us.