We Dream in Color…

..at least I do. Have you ever been in a dream and all of a sudden you realize you are conscious of it and can actually make decisions as to what will happen in those dreams? Those are usually the ones where you can fly and the colors you see are more vivid than in real life. Or are they?











One of the advantages of having a good part of your day outside is breathing the fresh air. And on a farm-many tasks can be very repetitive. They take on a meditative quality. At those moments, I can sort of step out of my head, much like a dream and observe what is around me. It starts with sound, a bird’s song with a melody made up as it goes along, bees humming as they perform their occupation of gathering nectar, the sheep bellowing out a greeting or a “where the heck are ya?” in terms of a ewe to her lambs, maybe a rooster’s yodel. And yes there are machines too, like a neighbor’s tractor in the distance or an occasional car. I do take pleasure in deciphering the poetry and music that is happening around me.

Then the scents take on a featured role, musky wet damp earth, a sweat note of some blossom, wheat straw-like scent grass just mowed-all like a perfume that changes and evolves.

And as my eyes wander, they fall on tiny details, seemingly random patterns of pebbles under my feet in neutral shades of wheat, slate, tan bark, and Spanish tile; droplets of rain clinging to the tips of leaves in all shades of green and not so green; collections of petals that form a flower, a painting of color that defy any crayon box; fruit like precious jewels hidden beneath great fans of enormous leaves with pops of yellow-squash with matching flowers!

You might ask, “What magical task are you undertaking?” My meditation might be considered weeding to others. Our lives can be of our own design, like the dreams we can control.


2 thoughts on “We Dream in Color…

  1. I did a lot of meditating while milking the goats twice a day for over five years. How I miss those quite moments, the smell of the barn hay, the chickens calling to each other…nothing can ever replace those sweet times 🙂

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