Rainy days

Frances lifted her head and looked at the monochrome sky.  She could taste the rain that hung in the air, almost swollen to bursting just above her. How can the sky be so heavy with molecules yet to coalesce?  It was one of those things, like how airplanes can fly and how television works.  It makes sense to someone, just not me, she smiled to herself.  I'm just a simple country girl.  

She lifted herself onto the step and pulled into the seat of the tractor, stood on the clutch and brake because they were far enough away she had to stand up with her full weight on the pedals to compress them to the floor for shifting.  This tractor is not built for her slight frame, but she made do with what she had.  We always do, she thought.  As she guided the machine down the parallel rows of dirt churning chocolate earth with silver blades, memories of the past two years floated through her mind, as thoughts and memories do when a body is engrossed in a simple, physical task and leaves the mind to wander.  

She and her five "sisters" as they though of  themselves, although they were so much more than sisters, pooled their money and bought land held in common trust three years ago. They finally did what they had so often talked about over dinner, drinks, while cleaning the kitchen, in bed as they cuddled with one or more after making love.  They built a community based on their own needs and wants, not what was imposed by the outside world of men and business, servitude as Molly called it.  A year was spent getting the land ready for occupation.  A cottage built on weekends and during vacations from work, following plans developed by Judith and a work schedule drawn up by Nancy and Dot.  Tools were borrowed from friends and family or sometimes rented, while Frances kept a detailed journal of all activities, so they could decide together what was essential to own for a successful life away from "greater" society.  All resources pooled, all decisions made by consensus.

The tractor shook and growled under her and her biceps flexed as she wrenched the wheel and turned the corner at the edge of the field.  There certainly have been ups and downs.  The emotional dependence on one another seemed at first to be a driving reason to create this community.  As time passed and relationships shifted, the emotional intensity started to feel like a burden.  But Molly was a great one for creating change, calling the group to task to take care of simmering issues, managing to ensure each one felt heard and loved, even through tough times.  In her previous life she had been a kindergarten teacher, destined for old maid status which of course is no status at all.  Frances considered Molly's intelligence and her open and loving heart, and felt gratitude wash over her that these women together had the courage to do what none of them could do alone.  We can be who we are from the inside out, rather than allowing outside forces destine our characters.  We can be whole.

At that moment, Frances felt and saw raindrops splatting coldly on her bare arms.  She lifted her face just as the clouds finally released and she was washed clean with the water of the sky.