The Herdess

The Herdess

Acrylic painted on recycled house wood.

There was a big pile of wood across the street. The city was finally tearing down the drug den where the prostitutes had covertly ducked into slowing cars.  The stench of mold and mildew lingered in the air and the bugs swarmed.

The lot was quickly emptied. And the grasses sprouted quicker, filling in the bare patch of earth exposed to the light for the first time in decades. Small fresh flowers replaced the fallen and sullen.

Before the city dump trucks came to haul away the walls and panels riddled with numerous nail holes, a quiet girl with her hair pulled back in a pony tail carefully sifted through the pile pulling out serviceable panels and dragging them down the street to her house. She would give them new life. Give the wood better pictures than they had previously witnessed. Perhaps let a new eyes see a different view.

She pulled out rusted nails. Sanded the rough sides and chose the face to paint. And created a new world.

The Herdess

She was strong. She worked hard and she cared for the animals that were hers to care for. They trusted her wisdom and guidance. She walked the firm earth in confidence. But behind her were crumbling walls. 

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