Walking with the old man across the paddock

These were the best times

On a farm its the air and the soil where you’re most comfortable

Just the kiss of breeze and the click/tick of the earth

We were often wary of each other, but walking together we were calm/quiet

Though we walked with purpose – to check the stock or the fences or something – we breathed easily

Quietly searching the landscape

I saw an odd stone and bent to lift it

Dark and dense and heavy – one end round and smooth, the other chipped and sharp

“An axe!” I exclaimed and held it up for my father to see

He took it from me and tossed it – “there are plenty of those around” he said

I was knocked – not sure what I’d done to be so dismissed – stupid to be so interested in something so mundane perhaps? I had no idea

But the land was changed for me – and I felt it was secret business somehow –

Not that I could have explained it then,

But it was like the land was peopled in a way it hadn’t been before

The land and air had been walked upon and breathed for centuries beyond our paltry 15 years