Words fail me today, or maybe I just fail the words. I had the chance to go back to my grandparents’ farm yesterday along with my mom and we visited my aunt and grandmother. They always give us a ton of stuff to take home – some of it, I just accept to oblige. Then I come home with the weight of it, the things and the memories and the hot sun, and I’m pretty worn out. So I share these photos with much love and I’m sorry if you don’t understand why it all means so much.
Abandoned sheds have had new doors put on and locked, to preserve what is left standing.
Moved to the center front yard, it’s still there but more as a memory.
A door knob I was born to late too ever open, is stored in the barn. A world was here.
View from the inside, the new door is better but somehow lacking the large, dark opening that was always there.
Always a bowl of dry food for wild cats. When I was younger I struggled with the concept of a kitten that didn’t want to be pet.
These are some of many official thingy-mo-bobbers that no one will recognize.
Lower level, lots of holes in the hay where things have burrowed.
I climbed the steps to the loft and it’s a tall, dark space I’m never able to fully conceive.
More hay, piles of it, and you can hear creatures moving. Some steps send your foot down too far into the unknown. Birds clang against the aluminum roofing, flying back and forth in protest of you.
The old wood I remember and the new siding makes a peculiar hybrid structure.
They’ve let a farmer rent some of the land that used to look out to blueberry patches.
The garden is still there, but without the flowers.
We like our old swings, don’t we?
“In the pines, in the pines, where the sun don’t ever shine…”
The pond water level is lower, and hasn’t been swam in. We used to throw hot dog chunks to fat bass fish.
When I saw this in the untended rock garden, I thought, “The only good bear!” When this was a new feature my mom said I could get married here. I still might.
Back at my parents’ house before heading home.
I asked my brother’s portal to bring him here. Perhaps it takes a while. I haven’t said anything since uprooting and changing blog servers, but Christopher has gone away.
Some birthday money for my journey back.