Lights Are On
It’s Thanksgiving week in Wisconsin which in the heart
of every hunter, is also known as the firearm deer hunting season. This year, opening day has found me where I’ve
been for the past four deer seasons, sitting in a ground blind “up on the ledge”
just south of De Pere. The land is owned and farmed by my son-in-law’s father, and he graciously allows me the opportunity to hunt
here.
When I usually speak of the view from my deer stand to
another hunter, I would likely focus on the five or so acres of willow brush to
the west since all of the deer that I’ve shot here have come out from those
willows. But one of the more intriguing
sights on the property lies even further west of those willows. It is the old farm house that has stood here,
unoccupied for decades now. The whitewash
paint has chipped and faded badly, but the old fellow is still standing fairly
upright. Last spring the local volunteer
fire department burned down the adjacent barn for firefighter practice, so all
that is left of that is the old stone foundation.
But the windows of the house are all still intact, and
those are what always catch my attention early each morning that dawns
clear. Because, when the sky is
cloudless, as soon as the fire is kindled on the eastern horizon, the first
rays of sun reflect in the four windows of the farmhouse that face east. It appears that someone has turned on the
lights and is inside getting ready to meet the day. This lasts for about 15 minutes; after that
the sun climbs too high and the angle changes.
The lights seem to be turned off and the house seems old and abandoned
again. I have to admit, the first year I
sat there and saw “the lights go on” it seemed more than a little strange. But over the last few years I have come to
look forward to the brief encounter with the past.
It has gotten easier to imagine the morning bustle of
the farm family that built this house early in the last century. It’s quiet now, but it’s not difficult to
hear the rooster crowing and the hens cackling as they begin to scratch in the
yard in search of breakfast. Similarly,
inside one can smell the bacon begin to sizzle in the pan and catch that first
waft of strong black coffee as it brews.
Were they silent risers who edged cautiously into the new day? Or as I imagine, was there a hearty laugh or
two as the bread baked yesterday is sliced thick for toast. No doubt there is a jar of strawberry jam,
put up last spring, already on the table.
When the lights are on, any house, especially a
farmhouse is alive with sound. When the
lights are on, the neighbors know all is well there. When the lights are on, especially after the
chores are finished, it means that visitors are welcome to come share in a warm house and warm hearts. There is always room for another plate to be
set on the table, so plan on staying for supper. Simple folk live
simply and generously. It’s a good way to live.
As the sun climbs higher and the lights go back off this morning it is time for me to say a
prayer for all the souls that used to call the old house home. And it’s time to think about deer again.
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
Photo by Roger Starnes Sr on Unsplash
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