The Pasture

I thought I would share a poem with you by Robert Frost that I have loved for a long time.

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I shan't be gone long. --You come too.

I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It's so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I shan't be gone long. -- You come too.

When I read this poem, I relate it to my life. My home is in the middle of a native grass pasture, and there is no place I would rather be. I feel lucky to look out my window everyday and see miles of grassland. I love seeing the new calves with their mama's in the morning. I love the sound of the frogs and crickets when I go to sleep. I love the wild flowers, fresh air, birds, and all that the pasture has to offer. I could not ask for more. :)



The view outside of my window