The days, they roll together like waves of green blowing across the alfalfa field.
Swath, rake, bale, haul, stack.
Swath, rake, bale, haul, stack.
Round and round just like the pivots delivering dew from above, precious life giving water.

As we circle the field, Mr. Ferrero Rocher and I talk about our children.
The cute antics of the two year old
The crazy ideas of the five year old
{and thought provoking questions “If God made Adam, who made God?}
How the eleven year old is doing so well
being more responsible.
One year until the oldest is off to college.
Weren’t we just there a few short years ago?
Circles.

Before I think too hard
before panic sets in
I look out and see
There is beauty there
for me to enjoy
Here. Now.
It has always been there.
And always will be
A constant.

Circling back around, swathing a new row
I am reminded others have tread here
Felt the dizzying spin
of children growing up

Our lives are rolling onward
Forward
Toward what?
And at such speed!

The water is there
Living Water
drizzling mist-like
sometimes drenching
but always
ALWAYS
distilling
the perfect amount to keep me going
growing
turning to Him.
I drink it in.