The wife and I went for a little drive in the countryside. We both enjoy exploring the little county roads and seeing where they " come out. " We're not coming out, we don't live in a closet, we have an entire apartment to ourselves, ain't America great? I took the camera with me having in mind to share the sights on Facebook. I've since discovered Facebook changed that whole process a bit, what happened to creating an album, and uploading the pictures seemed more difficult. But whatever, I did post a few that I liked. I was happy to receive some likes and comments on them. We saw some familiar sights and some we hadn't noticed before. I always enjoy seeing the farms and the animals in the fields. I also like seeing the old family cemeteries. Discovered one of those as well. I find them somehow reassuring, although I can't explain why that is. I'm thinking it just seems more personal, as if death isn't personal enough. But it would be reassuring to be in the same ground as your ancestors. I don't know, just seems right somehow.
On our drive I notice these two pillars. They are on the edge of a field, the vines are climbing up them, but there is no road between them. There should be a road, a drive leading to a house or barn, but there is nothing but crops growing. My mind wanders to thoughts of what could have been. Was there some tragic event that destroyed a home? A fire or storm? Or had the family abandoned the home and it slowly crumbled, returning to the earth? Surely there is a story here. I was reminded of two pillars at the end of a dirt road where I grew up. Those pillars have the words Olympic Heights on them. Sitting at the base of a hill that dirt lane rose up and lead to a few homes. At one time the developer of that property had " Olympic " dreams of a housing development. For a variety of reason that just never panned out. My dad's best friend was owner of a gas station named " Olympic Heights " but he had nothing to do with the housing development. What association did these lonely pillars have to the land? Who had passed between them? I could see horse drawn carriages and wagons. I saw a grand mansion at the end of the lane. I am intrigued by such things. If I were an artist I would paint that picture. The best I can manage is a snapshot.
I'm certain we will be taking another drive one day. For me, it harkens back to the time when the family would take a Sunday drive. My family would do that every now and again. Sometimes we would stop for ice cream or a candy bar. Dad would drive the back roads pointing stuff out to us kids. He would share what he remembered and what he had been told. We rode past such places as Whooping Boys Hollow, a haunted place, two holes of water and out to Napeuge.(sp) It was in Napeuge that Dad told the story of riding out a hurricane sitting in the car. Our home was a fishing shack on stilts by the waters' edge. No place to stay during a storm! I was told I was just a baby then. There were other places, other stories told. Now I ride the back roads here and wonder about the places and make up the stories. I'm thinking I'll write a story about those two lonely pillars, sentinels of the past still standing guard. What secret are they guarding? I'll think of something.
We also saw three crosses in the corner of a field. They are at a crossroads. A friend said it reminded him of an old Randy Travis song, three wooden crosses. I agreed with him as I had the same thought. That story has already been written. I can't help but wonder if a similar event was the reason these three crosses were erected. Was it in response to the song or in response to a tragic event? Could just as easily be a celebration of faith. Whatever the case may be, these three crosses do appear almost out of nowhere, standing there slightly leaning indicating the years gone by. By design, or the result of time? I guess it is a little of both.
On our drive I notice these two pillars. They are on the edge of a field, the vines are climbing up them, but there is no road between them. There should be a road, a drive leading to a house or barn, but there is nothing but crops growing. My mind wanders to thoughts of what could have been. Was there some tragic event that destroyed a home? A fire or storm? Or had the family abandoned the home and it slowly crumbled, returning to the earth? Surely there is a story here. I was reminded of two pillars at the end of a dirt road where I grew up. Those pillars have the words Olympic Heights on them. Sitting at the base of a hill that dirt lane rose up and lead to a few homes. At one time the developer of that property had " Olympic " dreams of a housing development. For a variety of reason that just never panned out. My dad's best friend was owner of a gas station named " Olympic Heights " but he had nothing to do with the housing development. What association did these lonely pillars have to the land? Who had passed between them? I could see horse drawn carriages and wagons. I saw a grand mansion at the end of the lane. I am intrigued by such things. If I were an artist I would paint that picture. The best I can manage is a snapshot.
I'm certain we will be taking another drive one day. For me, it harkens back to the time when the family would take a Sunday drive. My family would do that every now and again. Sometimes we would stop for ice cream or a candy bar. Dad would drive the back roads pointing stuff out to us kids. He would share what he remembered and what he had been told. We rode past such places as Whooping Boys Hollow, a haunted place, two holes of water and out to Napeuge.(sp) It was in Napeuge that Dad told the story of riding out a hurricane sitting in the car. Our home was a fishing shack on stilts by the waters' edge. No place to stay during a storm! I was told I was just a baby then. There were other places, other stories told. Now I ride the back roads here and wonder about the places and make up the stories. I'm thinking I'll write a story about those two lonely pillars, sentinels of the past still standing guard. What secret are they guarding? I'll think of something.
We also saw three crosses in the corner of a field. They are at a crossroads. A friend said it reminded him of an old Randy Travis song, three wooden crosses. I agreed with him as I had the same thought. That story has already been written. I can't help but wonder if a similar event was the reason these three crosses were erected. Was it in response to the song or in response to a tragic event? Could just as easily be a celebration of faith. Whatever the case may be, these three crosses do appear almost out of nowhere, standing there slightly leaning indicating the years gone by. By design, or the result of time? I guess it is a little of both.
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