Knotted Roots - Part 1

It was different here. Like I could smell the dirt, if Earth had a smell, it would be a mix of burnt wood and hearty protein. The breeze gently cooled me from a scorching summer sun. I was ready to call it a day, but I nearly finished installing the fence I promised my old man. My once white shirt, stained in mud and ripped from snagging on nails and splinters, useless. I removed my sweat drenched cowboy hat for a brief moment while I swiftly removed my shirt. My chest and stomach glistened from the sun. Checking my water source, I was running low, but since the job was almost done and I was desperate for relief from the heat, I poured the rest of my water over my limp, clingy hair. Swiping my hair back as I donned my hat again. Adjusting my work gloves as I bent down to grab the last few nails and hammer. I make quick work of the rest of the fence. Wiping my brow, blinking the burning sweat from my eyes, I felt the ground under my leather boots rumble. Steadying my breath, I breathe a calm breath. The wild horses must be running again. The wild mustangs have been running rampant lately. With a curious mind, I found myself in awe watching them sprint wildly, freely. Leaning on the fencepost, I finished in time to watch the sun setting behind the mountain ridgeline. “Your canvas is beautiful God.” I whispered aloud, taking in the way the burnt amber glow of the sky, the way the clouds hung low as if a visual of God’s very breath. I lost track of reality for a brief moment, until I heard the holler of an all too familiar voice. Grace was excitedly hollering as she rode bareback on a beautiful appaloosa horse she named Spot, a beautiful stallion she raised. We grew up together, her parents owned the ranch adjacent to ours. Grace had her hair in a loose braid, her white cowboy hat shading her emerald eyes. Grace gave a command to Spot who reared, leaving me a picturesque moment to behold as she became a heroic silhouette amidst the sunset. “My, my, Grace…you’ve really done it this time.” Chuckling to myself. I felt the strength as Spot cantered toward me, Grace confidently commanding his course. “What have we here?” Grace teased as she briskly dismounted from Spot. “Well, we have a finished fenceline.” “Well it’s about time Jasper!” Grace’s smile always seemed to have healing powers. “Well, as a reward, how about a ride back home?” “Well that’d be mighty generous of you, but I don’t want to go home just yet.” “Oh? But the sun’s nearly set. What could you possibly have to work on that’s so important right now?” Grace snickered, always admiring my work ethic. She knew I was here to save my father’s farm as he fell ill this past year. I take care of all the manual labor, while taking him to doctor appointments and driving to town to grab his medications. “Ah! Who says I was working?” I challenged, “Then what on earth do you plan on doing out here so late?” Her southern accent grew thick and illuminated her natural beauty. “Well you’re right, the sun’s setting, the breeze is picking up and we have a clear sky tonight. Thought I might walk the path back under the stars.” My voice hoarse, her eyes searched my soul while her smile never fades. “You’re welcome to join me, and Spot of course, if you’d like.” Grace shifted on her heels for a moment, and nodded. “I’d like that.” Grace glances over her shoulder, “What’dya say Spot?” Spot neighed and stomped as if saying yes. “Well that settles it.” I offered my arm to Grace who hooked her elbow around mine as we began the slow walk back to my dimly lit porch a few acres in the distance. Spot followed with silent obedience as if protective in case any lone wolves dared to enter the property.