Fourth in a series
ORANGE — It’s 5 o’clock. Time to feed and water the cows. But from the furrow where I’ve landed, they feel impossibly far away. My hamstrings, lower back, and the arches of my feet are furious with me. A day’s worth of persistent black flies have rendered my sweaty skin a map of itchy welts. Rocks jab my ribs and dirt is finding its way up my shirtsleeves. But I don’t have to move for the next two minutes so this lumpy patch of earth is pure heaven. I gaze at the sky, finger the blisters on my palms and let the satisfaction of a hard day’s work soak in. And then I remember we’re doing it all again tomorrow.