Picking Up Sticks (And Other Broken Things)

I spent Sunday afternoon out in my yard. The farm is still fairly quiet. The cardinals are coming back in droves. We have had two pairs throughout winter, but I believe they have invited relatives to stay with them. Fine by me. The distinct call they use makes me smile. I also witnessed six geese fly very low over our farm pond. It is not free of ice yet, but they seem to be keeping a very close eye on it's progress. The sun was on my face and the snow was melting right in front of my eyes. It was becoming muddier and muddier, but I do enjoy mud!

I was so thrilled to finally be out. A certain kind of freedom and power stirs in me as I venture out to do one of my least favorite jobs on the farm. Pick up sticks. We are surrounded by old, gigantic oak trees, an ash tree and a creepy old black cherry tree. Whether it was a calm winter or a more ferocious one, the limbs continue to break off and fall to the ground. They all need to be removed before I can start my season of mowing and if I wait any longer I will be consumed by the need to plant. So...Sunday was to be "pick up sticks" day.

I have been going through some major life situations and I started equating my task at hand with the sticks. Those giant oak limbs are what I am facing now. I struggle to get them to the pile. They are bulky and make my muscles sore the next day. I'm sure they will take longer to burn in the fire.

Then there are the sticks from the black cherry tree. They are long an gnarly. They get wrapped up in each other and untangling them is hardly worth the effort. There are not usually many of these limbs but they are not much fun to deal with. I think of them as people in my community who like to gossip and spread non truths about me- who are filled with the wrong information and get it all tangled up with the truth.

Lastly is the ash tree. Why it won't just die, I don't know. It litters truckloads of small, crumbling branches, sticks and twigs all over the ground beneath. To pick up one stick makes four or five little pieces. The easiest to lift but the most difficult to contain. I view them as life's irritating little nuisances. Always there, no big deal, same thing tomorrow.

You can't leave sticks lying on the ground. They will create a hazard. You must pick them up-one by one- and deal with them. Just like every single little problem in your life.

May all your troubles be small and may all of your yard work be painless...