Prompt - Quote from Annie Dillard

Written in June 2019 - funny I cannot recall the quote for the prompt - but here is what came forth.

The wooden screen door smacks the side of the house as I rush out the door.  I hear a yell behind me but I cannot make it out as I am already moving to the next thing. Playing outside. I can see my cousins already starting to take their places in the sand box.  I cannot decide if I should join them or take up my search for the farm cat who just had kittens.  I choose kittens. I start walking towards the corn crib - the worn wood planks with paint flaking and the dirt path that will take me into its sanctuary. My cousin yells for me to join her and I yell a no - and ask if anyone wants to help me find the kittens. She decides to come along and I tell her it is really important that she be quiet. She looks at me.  I am always amazed that we are two years apart - she is younger, and yet when I ask for silence, she begins to chatter just as we get close to any of the cats on the farm and they bolt out from between us. I stop her and grip her shoulders and say - Stef, you do really need to be quiet. She looks at me, huge blue eyes, somber and serious.  I will she whispers. I look back at her and sigh - I love spending time with her but sometimes, she is just so...I take her hand and we walk towards the corn crib. I look down at her feet - tan and dusty - just like mine - we aren’t wearing any shoes. We are always told to wear shoes in the corn crib but I feel like when I am here - on the farm, it is best to feel the texture of the soft grass - with those hidden thistles that poke the tender parts of your feet - or the soft dusty dirt - no longer moist from spring rains - it rises through your toes almost like mud but then easily flakes off in the grass. I tell her - we have to be careful, watch for nails - because that has been the warning nearly every day I am on the farm.  Where exactly do these nails come from? Why would they be in the yard, on the driveway (so a tire could catch it) or in the barn - which is fully standing and full of tools and wood. I tell her to watch none the less and we catch a glimpse of the momma cat - she has just come out of the main door and turns to look at us. Stef begins to speak but I quickly put my hand out - shhhhhh - don’t say anything my eyes are boring into hers.  She closes her mouth and I sigh with relief. The momma cat is settling down onto the dirt and she rolls over to coat herself with a layer of dust. We are frozen, not moving, just staring. She is so close to us.  This is about as close as we have been able to get to her. She starts and stands up - her golden eyes looking at these two girls before her - both blonde - both in pigtails - one in shorts and a t-shirt and the other in a t-shirt and skirt - bare legs - dirty feet - she starts to walk slowly away from us - and I motion for my cousin to follow me, but I have the look on my face that says, don’t you dare speak...the momma cat leads us into the corn crib - it is slightly warmer in here - while the main door is large enough for the tractor to drive in, it still feels close. Shards of light come through each of the cracks and spaces in the walls making it feel like we have walked into another world. I glance up to see the slight rise in dust dancing in the bits of sunlight. Stef grabs my arm - and points into the darkness just inside one of the bins. I glance as the last of the momma cat’s tail disappears into the darkness. I listen - I can hear a cricket, a couple of birds, and just the faintest of cries - it sounds like a baby kitten - a very small but demanding mew and it seems to be coming from the corner where the momma cat disappeared.  We walk slowly across the floor - stepping over boards and straw and a piece of chain...