LET'S ALL SING

I am reminded of the old song “Let’s All Sing Like The Birdies Sing”. The Mockingbirds are back and have set up a morning concert on the fence outside my bedroom window. Each day as the sky begins to gray they start warbling and chirping and whistling their little hearts out. (Tweet, Tweet-Tweet, Tweet-Tweet!) It doesn’t disturb me as I have been awake long before the sun began to climb. I do wonder however if the time for their concert will change with the coming of daylight savings time? Do they know what time it is or will they simply react to the sun and nothing more? They seem a little out of sorts and I can only guess that my schedule of chores and movement past their perch throws them off.

Each year I look forward to springing forward an hour and gaining sunlight at the end of my day. I do not mind getting up in the dark and starting my daily chores because the sun appears and lights my way. I do not like doing my evening chores in the increasing darkness. It is a joy to have that extra light, to be able to finish feeding and watering then having a nice sit on the porch to watch the sun disappear. I wish there were some way we could just spring forward and not spring back.

 
Porch time is my favorite time of the day. I sit and listen to the sounds of the ranch and watch the sun as it sets the stray clouds on fire with brilliant color. Life is good and I am happy and appreciative. I don’t know who came up with daylight savings time. Oh, I am sure I could look it up on the internet and know all there is to know about it; but do I really need that information stuffed into my brain? No. All I need is a big glass of tea and some time spent in what was my grandfather’s lawn chair to help me put things into perspective. So, whoever you are that came up with the concept, the Mockingbirds may not thank you, but I certainly do and I don’t mind singing about it one bit.

 

*For more information on Debra Coppinger Hill go to the poetry section at AlwaysCowboy.com

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RIDING DRAG with DEBRA COPPINGER HILL is featured each week at ALWAYS COWBOY where Debra is a Resident Western Poet. Join her and her Cowboy Friends for Cowboy Poetry, News & Events. http://alwayscowboy.net/debra_coppinger_hill_poetry.html

COWBOY POETRY / A PLACE IN THE HEART

A PLACE IN THE HEART



"Where is this place they call The West?,"
  a stranger asked of me;
"Where does it begin, where does it end,
  where are the boundaries?"

I gave this question lots of thought,
  I considered it quite carefully;
For everything from the Atlantic coast is West,
  all the way to the Pacific sea.

Cowboy is a often a mis-used term,
  open to interpretation,
And so it is, with The West,
  it becomes a generalization.

The answer seemed too simple,
  though it gave me cause to ponder;
The ways and life of the Cowboy
  and how he is bound to wander.

I smiled as I gave my answer,
  and please don't think it odd,
But the words I spoke, I truly believe,
  were given to me by God.

"Everyone has a different definition,
  and no single one is right;
It's like trying to define the Universe,
  or freedom or faith or sunlight.

The West is like the sky above,
  endless and wrapped around us all;
It's anywhere there's the soul of man,
  or the sound of this Earth's call.

It's the place where we're going,
  all the places we have been,
The past, the present and the future;
  where-ever you find a friend.

Where is The West?
  You're standing there;
It's no one location,
  it's everywhere.

It's no place in particular,
  it's anywhere living is an art;
It's any place a Cowboy is,
  it's A Place in the Heart."




©Debra Coppinger Hill
Dedicated in love and laughter to Jen Hilts, a Cowgirl to the bone.




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RIDING DRAG with DEBRA COPPINGER HILL is featured each week at ALWAYS COWBOY where Debra is a Resident Western Poet. Join her and her Cowboy Friends for Cowboy Poetry, News & Events. http://alwayscowboy.net/debra_coppinger_hill_poetry.html

RIDING DRAG / ABSOLUTELY NOTHING

Once in awhile I run away. I grab a bag, I get in the truck and I come to Colorado with my husband where he is currently working. I like hiding up here. The scenery is distinctly different from the flat-lands of Oklahoma. Even the hills of the Osage or the tree-filled areas around Tahlequah cannot compare to real mountains. I hold nothing against my home state it is simply at times I crave tall peaks to which snow still clings even in June; the temperature of 78 much preferred over the muggy 97 I hear they are having back home today.


There are things I do not see often when I am home. Here I will venture out to the farmer’s market, to the Navajo square and the Pow-Wow going on at the fairgrounds. I don’t do that at home. A myriad of chores call to me, errands demand my attention and I cannot make myself simply sit back and waste time.

Wasting time is rejuvenating. We all need it, but so few of us take the time to give ourselves those moments involve nothing. Long ago I recall my Dad coming home from his week’s work on Friday enening. He would rush through the chores that absolutely had to be done over the weekend, mowing, household chores, etc., and then he would say ‘Ah, time for nothing!” He laughed, we laughed and we spent the weekend days doing exactly that, nothing.

Sometimes he would throw fishing poles, sleeping bags and food in the car and we would take off on a ‘they went that-a-way’ adventure. He would let my brother and me taking turns deciding which way to go at certain intersections. We ended up in a lot of interesting places and we always had fun. We did nothing and we loved it.

So in that very spirit I did this very same thing this last week. I make no excuses. I needed that time. I needed to do nothing and did. We took off and drove, made a lot of turns for no reason other than we wondered where the road went. My spirit is renewed and I am ready to face the days ahead!

Oh, one more thing I did not do…I did not write a column. Not until this minute anyway. The only thought I put into it has been the thought I used in remembering the fun of doing nothing with my Dad and Mom when we were kids and the fun of the last few days; the fun of doing nothing.

As responsible adults we often feel that to have fun is to not get our work done. If we are doing nothing we could not possibly be accomplishing what the world and the powers-that-be think we should. For the most part we feel that we must be given permission to go do nothing and further permission to not feel bad about it. Let me help you with this.

(Fill in the blank)__________ has my permission to spend the next few days doing nothing. That means absolutely, positively nothing what so ever. And in addition to doing nothing, they are totally absolved of any feelings of guilt for doing such. Signed, Debra Coppinger Hill.

There, isn’t that better? Now, go! Nothing is waiting.


Contact Debra Coppinger Hill at ridingdrag@gmail.com