Saturday afternoon, Dan headed over to my Grandpa Sayre's farm to chop
and split some wood. He took Mary and Emma with him. When Elizabeth
woke up from her nap, she was heartbroken, that everyone had gone to
Grandpa's without her. So we jumped in the car together and headed
We got there, just as the first hints of nightfall were arriving. The
sun was leaving it's warming golden glow on every hillside and slipping
between the trees.
I'm so glad I thought to throw the camera in the front seat of the
car with me because I couldn't even make it up Grandpa's long driveway
without having to pull over and take a few photographs.
When we finally pulled into the house, I could hear the chain saw,
but couldn't see Dan anywhere. Down over the steep back hill, I found
him slowly taking apart a downed Ash tree.
Elizabeth and I started the hike over the hill, knowing (and
thankful) that we could get a ride back to the top in the truck. The
girls met us from behind a few strides down the hill–they'd been down
in the barn, jumping in the corn and checking out the cows.
When Dan finished, and we finally got back up to Grandpa's house, he
came out to say goodbye. We stood there for a long time, the girls
playing in the back of the truck, Grandpa and Dan talking about
property lines, woodburners, farming and politics.
And I stood back, making sure no one toppled out of the truck bed and
soaking in the scenery as the light changed from golden yellow to deep
blues, to pink, to dark purple.
At one point I stood with the sun setting at one shoulder, the moon reaching into the sky at the other.
It was remarkable.
Grandpa told the girls how, on nights like this, he comes out to
those chairs and watches the clouds and waits for the deer to come out
of the woods. And how just a few nights ago, he counted 37.
Some light rain finally chased us home–dirty children, a tired, sore and hungry husband.
As I pulled out of the driveway, waving to my girls sitting three across in the truck, all I could think was how blessed I
am, we are. To have places like this to come to. To have views like
this to cherish. To have people like Grandpa to share stories with and
love. To have strong bodies to do work. Warm homes to protect us in
bitter cold. And a place like this, and people like you to mark the
moment, and share those feelings of fullness and contentment that come
at the end of a day like this.
26 comments on “a day like this”
oh molly, yes.these photos are beautiful. but nothing is better than stopping to realize all that we have.
oh, absolutely gorgeous! thank you so much for sharing. now only if i could go there for vacation, i don’t even care where it is….. : )
Thanks for sharing it with us, what a beautiful area and gorgeous views. Glad you had a good time
oh the clouds saturday night were awesome! great pictures molly and you have such an amazing way with words!!
so special and beautiful. thank you.
yes, gratitude is a cornerstone of living with intention. thanks for this post.
Thanks for that. It is just like my in-laws farm in western PA. Most evenings are like that – the light quality and all. We spent this evening walking an old farm donated to our county this evening and had mental images just like yours…
What a beautiful moment, pictures, too! Isn’t it wonderful having family, watching the night creep up, and waiting for the deer to come out! You are one blessed mom!
What a delicius moment in time…. I felt it through your description… you are truly blessed, and more so because you appreciate it. Thank you for sharing this special moment in time.
I add my echo to the other comments- thank you for sharing. Reading this added a few moments of extra peace to my day.
holy cow, woman. i’m about to go fave every single one of those on flickr.
This is the most peaceful blog I’ve read in a while. It’s true, we are blessed and we have to stop long enough to see it.
Your story was like soothing balm, Molly. Thank you.
Beautiful photos & words – thankyou for sharing such a lovely part of your day.
I love those moments out doors. The day makes so much sense. Thanks for the story.
wow. these photos are beautiful. i love the light in the pasture with the cows. stunning… and makes me dream of homesteading. thank you for the story as well.
gorgeous. Every delicious bit.
needed to read this today Moll- thank you!!
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing the peace.
wow…beautiful farm life, im jealous!
You have a beautiful perspective and eye. I love visiting here.
So lovely! It’s it magical to live in a beautiful place, and to be able to drink it in? Thanks for sharing your beauty with us.
What a blessing! It looks & sounds like an absolutely lovely day…
Ah the colors of dusk…you captured it so beautifully, as well as the beautiful moments spent with your family as the day turns to night. Thanks for sharing!