Cowbells and Slanty Shadows

Last night, twilight slipped in on silent feet and threw long shadows across the lawn as the sun neared the western horizon. It’s the time of day that reminds me of a very long time ago. At the same time each evening, the cows would amble across the pasture toward the barn. It was milking time. Mom would have supper on the stove and Dad would bring the foaming buckets of warm milk to the house before we ate.

Now, of course, times have changed. They have not changed gradually but all at once, it seems, in a hurry. Those days of the sound of cowbells, the swish of streams of warm milk shooting into foaming buckets are, I’m afraid, gone forever. So, what does a person do during those times now? Well, I grabbed my camera and sat on my deck. I found some really nice scenes: the clematis vine, the ferns and hostas, and the pretty view of sky and trees. Somehow, they reminded me of other days and old-time ways.

This is Friday, another week gone by and the weekend upon us. I hope your week was pleasant and profitable in many ways. And I hope the weekend is a happy one for us all.