Monday, August 03, 2015

Angels in the Grainfield

We went to my parents' farm this weekend. It'd been a while since the last time we did. These weekends are the best because we mostly just hang out and play games and eat and run around outside in our pyjamas. Barclay helps my dad with farm work sometimes, but it's mostly chill.

So we were all sitting around in the porch on Saturday night being chill and my sister was there too and I said to her, "Sunset? In the field?" and she was like, "Yeah."

Because we both live in cities now and don't often get to see sunsets in fields anymore.

So we headed out, the two of us, wading through the golden stalks like we were walking through a pool of water - it sounded like water, too, when the wind went through it. It looked more like fire though, especially in the evening sun. Or like gold.

We had a good farm kid field heart-to-heart - mostly about how much we hoped we wouldn't get mauled by a cougar. Because sometimes, we have heard, there are cougars. And this field would've made an excellent hiding place for a predatory animal. And our dog is dead now so he's no help to anyone. We decided that if we came across a cougar, we'd stand back to back and throw things at it. Honestly, though, I don't think we would've stood a chance. My sister is not a mighty warrior, no offence, Ceese, and I am even less so.

(The closest thing we saw to a cougar, however, was a black farm cat who looked grouchy but not dangerous.)

We found a place where nothing would obstruct our view (an easy feat to accomplish in southern Saskatchewan) and we stood there and waited for the sun to touch down on the hill before us. I'm sure you know how sunsets work, so I won't belabour it. Just picture the sun, and then picture less and less of it, until you're not picturing it at all anymore.

But then, picture this:

As the sun disappeared from view, angels started singing.

No, I'm serious, this happened.

Angels started singing - and playing violins. And cellos. And also electric guitars.

In that moment, all of the hairs on my arms stood straight up. I thought, "Something incredible is happening." I thought, "Maybe the end of the world." And then I thought, "Maybe I'm just going crazy." And then I thought, "Yeah, no, definitely that's it."

But going crazy wasn't as scary as I'd always imagined it might be.

But then I found out, from my sister, that the angels and the violins and the cellos and the electric guitars were actually an alarm that she'd set on her iPhone.

Instead of turning it off she let it play for a bit, and we stood there in the field and watched the sky change colours and I pretended that it was angels.