pasture

THE FIELD

Cattle grazing on wide, open fields remind me of a bad time in my life. Because of what someone had deliberately done to me, I was hurting. I wanted to run away from the pain, but couldn’t.

But then, one day, I was driving past a huge, sun-drenched field of grass and cows, and I got the wildest urge to pull off the road, drive across the ditch, and stop by the fence. I thought about slipping under the barbed wire and running to the middle of the flat pasture. I wanted to sit in the grass, wrap my arms around my knees, and shut my eyes. All I needed was to stay there with only cows meandering around me—the sun on my back and head. The scene spoke of total peace—warmth, safety, comfort, and healing. I almost couldn’t push the urge away.

When I shared my crazy thoughts with a cousin, he reminded me of what I might sit on. Ha. But I didn’t care. Even now—though years have slipped by—if I pass that field, the thought still tugs at me. It doesn’t call out with the desperate pull it did back then, but the calmness still beckons.

 

Karen Campbell Prough

 

Copyright © Karen Campbell Prough 2017

Represented by Linda S. Glaz at http://www.hartlineliterary.com.