The ninth month, fields are in harvest, apples yield on trees.
Mr heaves the barrow up, he mixes and hefts and his sweat pours onto the ground, it is turning into a shed.
It is one of life's simple secrets: that a dream gets fed by sweat, by push, by work.
And sometimes you will see the work and decide the dream weighs lighter in your estimation than you thought, and you will let it go.
And sometimes you will acknowledge the ache, the injurious frustration, the exhaustion, the painful mistakes, the re-takes and decide that this has the weight of a path that you long to follow.


Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

E, That Was Funny

A Candle Lit