A Day on the Farm
From the rooster's first crow to the last firefly's blink,
here is one whole day, one slow hour at a time.
5:30 — first light
The hush before
The sky is doing its best magic trick. The grass is still gray with sleep. Reginald the rooster takes a deep, important breath. Inside, somebody yawns. Outside, the world begins to color in.
6:00 — coffee on the porch
Papa watches the field wake up
Papa Pig comes out with two mugs of coffee — one for himself, one for the porch railing, which never drinks it, but he likes the company. He listens to the chickens deciding what kind of mood they're in today.
7:00 — biscuits, almost
Mama lights the stove
Mama Pig is humming. The kitchen is warm. There is flour on her apron and on the floor and a little on her elbow. The biscuits go in. The whole house leans toward the oven.
8:00 — chicken council
Little Sister negotiates breakfast
Little Sister Pig has a job: spreading the corn. She does it slowly, because each chicken gets a personal hello. There is Henrietta. There is Penelope. There is the one she calls Mr. Buttons, even though he is a hen. He doesn't seem to mind.
9:00 — the squeaky gate
Big Brother is on it
That gate has been squeaking for two weeks. Big Brother has heard about it from at least four pigs. Today is the day. Pliers in one pocket. Tape measure in the other. By 9:42, the gate is silent. By 9:44, he has noticed three more things to fix.
10:00 — Old Ruby is at it
Papa and the back field
Papa is on Old Ruby. The lines are coming out tidy. The crows are pretending not to be impressed. Old Ruby is humming her low, steady hum, the one that means she is content. Papa hums it back.
11:00 — the garden gives back
Tomatoes, basil, and one stubborn weed
Mama is in the kitchen garden with her basket. The tomatoes are not quite ready. The basil is excited. The mint, as usual, is trying to take over the world. She tells it to settle down.
12:00 — under the oak
Lunch is a quilt and a basket
The whole family gathers in the shade of the big oak. Sandwiches. Pickles. A jar of cold tea. Everyone talks at once, and somehow nobody minds. The dog gets the crusts. The dog is delighted.
1:00 — the cats know
The barn becomes a cathedral of nap
The barn cats find their patches of sunlight as if by appointment. Marigold takes the windowsill. Biscuit takes the hay bale. Nobody, by unspoken agreement, walks through the barn at one o'clock.
2:00 — into the hayloft
Big Sister and the chapter she meant to read
Big Sister climbs the ladder with her book and a sweater. The hayloft smells like summers piled on top of each other. The horses below shift their feet in soft, comforting punctuation. She reads three pages. Then she just listens.
3:00 — porch music
Middle Brother finds the chord
Middle Brother is on the porch with his guitar. He's been working on a song. It started bad. It got better. It is, just now, getting good. The dog has come over to lie at his feet, which is the highest compliment a song can get.
5:00 — the round-up
The dog brings everyone home
The shadows are long. Bess the cow has decided she is staying out for one more bite of grass. The sheepdog disagrees. They negotiate. The dog wins, because the dog always wins this particular negotiation.
6:00 — supper
All six pigs at one table
Six chairs. Six plates. Twelve elbows on the table at one time or another. Mama brings out the casserole. Papa says grace, briefly, in a voice that means it. Everybody eats. The kitchen, briefly, is the loudest room in the county.
8:00 — fireflies and frogs
The pond fills up with stars
The pigs drift outside one at a time, just to look. The sky is lit up. The pond is, somehow, also lit up. A bullfrog says something deep and unhurried. The wind walks once across the field.
10:00 — bedtime
Lights out, one by one
The kitchen light goes out. The porch light goes out. The lamp in the hayloft goes out. The last light is the little one in Little Sister's room, because she has just decided, very seriously, to read one more page. Then it goes out too. The whole farm exhales.
goodnight, Lynch Farm.