nine thousand
six hundred sunsets

For as long as I have lived in my house, some 26 years now, this has been my view. Some years it is corn, others wheat, but always this old, broken down shed with its very own sentinel of tree. I have watched thousands of sunsets through this silhouette.

Until yesterday.

I was away all morning, and when I returned, both tree and shed were gone. I’m guessing that the farmer who owns the field needs the space to boost his crop, last year we had a terrible drought, and I know it was rough for him. I can’t blame him for doing what needs to be done.

But there was always something about that shed that spoke of days gone by, and that one lone tree in a field full of corn was always the first thing I could see coming up the hill, guiding me home.

Once again, and without warning, my view of the world has changed. And while I know that change is the only thing we can really count on, I will miss the comfort of this familiar sight.

I’m getting the feeling that 2013 is going to be filled with surprises. So I’m going to buckle my seatbelt and settle in for the ride, and see where it takes me.

Because you can’t fight change and the world keeps turning and the sinking sun will still be beautiful.

And I have lots of photos to remind me of the way things used to be.

Every so often, I will walk to end of the driveway with one in my hand and hold it up for just a moment, remembering.

And then I’ll go back inside and catch up to life, before it goes zooming by.

 

 

 


8 Responses to “nine thousand
six hundred sunsets”

  • international man of mystery Says:

    hopefully not too many surprises

  • d smith kaich jones Says:

    oh. it’s losing a friend. but i know – after losing the big tree across the street to the drought of 2 years ago – that the sun just lands in a different way, and that new landing is a new friend. i promise.

  • Robin aka Gotham Girl Says:

    Oh my…I would be heartbroken. It so reminds me of the farm where I grew up in Virginia. But change is good, especially if it helps that poor farmer!

  • Dian Reid Says:

    Oh how I love this ever present reminder that while whether we have anticipated or been surprised by change, we can’t know its impact until it’s here. And that hopefully when it comes, we have reminders of our comfort zones to reflect upon.

    I just love this:
    “And I have lots of photos to remind me of the way things used to be.”

  • brian miller Says:

    its intersting how a little change like that can def shake us up….but you are right we can not fight it…and change is def one of the constants in our lives….i like old sheds too…smiles.

  • Peg Richards Says:

    Interesting that I wrote about change this morning, too! I love the visualization of you, walking to the end of your driveway, holding up a photo to remember the way things once were. I don’t think you’re a “Mrs. Mediocrity” at all. Blessings, Peg

  • Missing moments Says:

    Oh so sad to lose such beauty. Your image is gorgeous!

  • LaTonya Says:

    So much truth and sadness. I took me a while to learn it’s okay to be sad about the changes. Being sad doesn’t have to stop us from moving on. New to your blog and enjoying it. Thank you.

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