Another photo from the sidehill in These titles mean nothing.

Probably not one I’d have chosen to share but it’s what came up. It’s a very close photo of either the back or the front of Gracie and in the distant background through the trees is the house.

The sidehill is kind of a magic place. It’s the high part of the pasture. The farm spans the valley of the Paint. The north high place is the clearing and the south high place is the sidehill. The sidehill is where the cows and calves gather in the mornings.

And of course this day Gracie and the photographer were there.

This is another morning when I don’t have much time to write. I could promise to come back later and write some more but you know me: I probably won’t.

Time though is repetitive. The old entries on the right show that. We do the same things over and over again. We spin on seasons. We live our lives.