-My work is nestled in the middle of an odd spot with no easy commute per say to arrive to the university. All one-lane roads, each route with its quirks. Each with its pros and cons. Some have coffee spots. Some are more direct. Some have the least amount of traffic lights and others have farms.
The most favorite way I to go to work is by a back road that leads through the farms and woods in South County. The loopy S-curves along with the slight up and down of hills surrounded by greenery reminds me so much of New Hampshire yet here I go on my way to work in Rhode Island. It still makes my soul feel at home.
Sandwiched right in the middle of the commute is a sod farm. And today I just had to stop and take a picture.
This farm and its grass fields have brought me so much joy over the past seven years of my life. When I used to open the school, I would relish the mornings to leave while it was still dark out and arrive at the fields just in time to watch the sunrise over the tree tops.
Each season lent itself to magical colors. I would almost always roll my window down, even in the cold, to feel the air, breathe in the scent of the farm, and just embrace the quietness of a farm not yet awake. The pinks of morning so often lost by my attempts to capture it on my camera. I remember becoming so sad when the clocks would change and I would arrive post sunrise. But after a few days I would find something new to love about the farm and just enjoy the fields once again.
Many years into my commute, I look forward to spring coming when the dirt is turned and the grass becomes much like moss across the land. It looks like green peach fuzz. And then all of the sudden its getting taller and the first round of mowing happens. Its predictable and calming.
Then the grass is ready to be cut and rolled. The pallets get carefully spaced and stacked ready to hold the weight of the impending grass. The field looks like it gets a hair cut. It makes me smile. And then after a few days it is seeded and green again.
There is a peacefulness I get from watching the farmers out there day after day seeding, watering, fertilizing, cutting, and gathering their grass. Its continuous, dependable, and such a circle of life.
The grass is planted, it grows, and just when it is perfect it gets cut below the roots and relocated to a new place where it will have to figure out how to begin the process again. In its place, other grass will take root and grow. In its place, the same farmers will tend to it in the same manner. And it is all so marvelous.
This field in the photograph was different though. It had intentionally been allowed to grow tall and turn golden. I watched the breeze enter into the meadow and push the grass this way and that shimmering in the sunlight. I wondered over the past days how much longer would the grass grow before it would be rolled together?
Today it had been cut.No longer did the grass glow in the sunlight nor did it get relocated to regrow. It will serve a different purpose. The rolls of gold will nourish the land and the animals around it.
And those rolls of hay were gorgeous.
I don't take this way to work everyday but I take it most days when I can. Because why wouldn't I want to embrace how wonderful it is to pass these farms? To smell the air? To swerve along the roads.
Today I got to stop and capture the moment.
Brittany Courchesne is an early childhood educator, teacher mentor to teachers in training, public speaker, and blogger.