lately i've been driving out to the farm to take ezra for romps through the spring fields. the farm is my parents farm. and my childhood home. for forty years it's been the background, the soft cushion, to my life. and this spring, the lake isn't pulling me out for walks, like the farm is. ezra loves the endless fields and the ridge of giant evergreen trees. the swampy quarry that is now guarded with overgrown thorny bushes. the 200 year old barns. the apple orchard tucked to the east of the house, where the deer always appear from. the west fields that twist and turn along with tree dividers and ancient rail fences. ezra bounds along after exciting scents and i'm reminded of countless childhood adventures. like driving the family jeep through the fields and the long driveway when i was but 8 years old. choosing just the right time to leap from my galloping horse without being trampled after the saddle loosened and i was dangling under his belly at 11. and the tamer memories of picking wild strawberries and catching snakes and raising a little nest of baby rabbits after their mother was killed. trudging up the long 1/4 mile driveway to catch the school bus on winter mornings. the smell of sweet dusty hay.
so we tramp through the fields, ezra and i and sometimes tom. the perfect destination walk.
Toys In My Nephew's Attic
1 day ago