A story about an old man in Scotland who has cut peat on his beloved land for years. It is also a story about death.
A soft whinny brought Old Sod to his senses. Why, he jumped right out of that rocking chair which was something he hadn’t been able to do in some twenty odd years now. He’d dreamed about this mare a callin’ to him ever since he was a wee lad. But this time ’twas no dream he was a havin’. A children’s dressing poem came quickly to mind, learned from his mother soon as he could understand. Tonight he recited it while going through his a gettin’ ready for the world ritual.
“First me socks and then me trousers,
shirt and vest and then me shoes,
belt me waist, put on me coat,
gloves in me hand, afore I go”,
he repeated over and over as he dressed.
As Old Sod stepped out of that double dutch door, he gasped in awe at the beauty and wonderment of what his blue eyes beheld. This was by far the best surprise of all on his most glorious of birthdays, to see not one, but two prancing white horses. The mare champing at her bit, gilt cloth reins just ready for a gloved hand. Her stallion colt would lead their way up to the highlands as he proudly held his arched neck and flowing tail in the midnight air.
Gentle moor winds surely cooled a man off. ‘Twas the beginning of the witching hours, with magic all about. Sod heard the faeries singing and saw them dancing to the chimes of the tiny gold bells on his bonnie mare’s bridle. He listened as the old timey pipers played. He saw the armored riders of long ago as they stopped in honor of his passing.
Deep into the highlands and much to his astonishment, lay miles and miles of sod fields. “Why a man could cut forever in these fields and never get done! Me old bones don’t ache anymore, and for gosh sake, I got so much work to do here ’till I don’t know where to start first”, he happily exclaimed!
Somewhere in those Scottish highlands ’till today, one can see Old Sod cutting and stacking away. Flaxen coat and hat, accompanied by those dark loam gray trousers. You can never tell anymore, where the one leaves off, and the other takes up.
Photo credits: www.bing.com
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