WannaskaWriter

     Standing by an open fire, its smoke swayed by a cooling breeze, I look at the tall hybrid poplar trees along the farm lane. Across the Mikinaak Creek basin, the Red Wing blackbirds twitter from its partial cover of cattail reeds. A far distant jet rumbles by unseen, overhead. Leaves rustle noisily in the oaks behind me.; evening songs of robins, the crackling of the fire; the fragrance of burning wood, its embers glowing gy gusts of wind. Perhaps the coals will last until morning and we can drink our coffee here beside a renewed campfire.      I wonder of our impact here for there is no grand mansion nor log house of character, no machine sheds, no legions of steel grain bins nor acres of concrete padding, underground aeration pipes, no overhead wires or moats around fuel tanks stands against possible fuel spills, no oil-packed driveways, nor depths of seasonal implements hidden by over-grown forests of sweet clover and Canadian thistle, bu...

An unexpected rainstorm after tepid temperatures and windless conditions. Radar indicated the the system to go north of us, but we are in its southern reaches, thunder a way off heralded its approach. The sky began filling with dark clouds; temperatures dropping slightly providing a welcome coolness on the skin. Treetops fluttered. I carried in our plastic picnic table, partially folding it to fit off the aisle in our little porch. Grandson wanted to wait out the rain on his bicycle but as it began to fall more rapidly, Grandma told him to come indoors and bring the bike with him, and so the rain fell straight down, harder, hard enough to fill the gutter over the door and cascade out its open end and plunge splattering into the grass below, its cadence wavering as the rain slowed, then fell hard again. Mists arose in the corral. The drips spattered from the roof edge one by one. The leaves hissed. Cars out on the county road could be heard faraway as the storm quietly moved eastward .....