The Invisible That Holds Everything.

The wind is blowing from the west so that the bamboo is bowing down as though hailing some greatness to the east.

The wind, since the metal on the barn roof has begun to come lose, has become the voice of the barn; that is the way I hear it anyway. I have been out in the field and watched the corner of the roof lift and then fall and I have counted three, four and five seconds until it's voice has reached me.

I think of that invisible that the voice has traveled on, and I wonder about that space that is everywhere; in us and around us. I don't attempted to wrap my mind around it; I have no wish to make the wonder of it that small or my mind stretched out of shape by the attempt. I just let it be.

A lean to along side the barn came down with the big snow in December. So now what I am hearing along with the falling of the corner of the barns' roof, is the hitting of a hammer on wood. I looked over there, for they are not our barns (they did at one time belong to this house, those who lived in this house were dairy farmers and those barns housed their cows) Someone it seems has been hired to take away the metal roof of the lean to that collapsed the snow. I don't know if the hammering is the taking down of the wooden structure that held the roof or the strengthening of it so that a new roof will replace the old.

I wonder what he (it is a he) thinks of the talk that comes from the barn on this wind blown morning.

The sun comes out in bursts and then just as suddenly is gone. The thick bodies of clouds are blowing eastward too; off, it seems in a hurry somewhere; like someone walking a fast walk that it to dignified to run when not dressed in a running outfit.

Shadows and bright spots wave across the southern face of the Willappa Hills. The cows (not our cows) are out grazing. I see two calves, both black. The cows like mornings like this, greeted as it seems by a warm friendly world.

The lean to is silhouetted against the evening sky in the photo and the edge of the barn roof is seen just to it's left. It is that corner that lifts and falls and gives voice and travels on the invisible that holds everything.