When it rained, whatever rusty, duct-taped, wired-up vehicle we were driving at the time had to be parked at the top of the quarter mile ribbon of instant, knee-deep mud we called a driveway. Sometimes I would take a run at it. Then spend stranded hours or days digging, jacking and cursing.
I have clear images of walking up that driveway in the rain almost 30 years ago. A family in garbage bags. Holes cut for head and arms to stick through. A child on my shoulders. Sometimes a garbage bag full of laundry in each hand.
This morning, Seedbud posted in leaf and twig an image of an old empty farm building and wrote of wind and memories. Memories came rushing back. Up the road from us was just such a building. We called it Castle of the Wind. At night we would often hear wolves howling in the fields of pioneer growth.
The Castle of the Wind. Great piece of writing, and a wonderful part of my childhood memories
LFM eh? Hmmm. I seem to recognize that smiley face.
two lovely posts feeding off of each other this morning. Nicely done. Sweet memories indeed. I loved both and both images are fabulous
I remember roads like that…you brought back to me a whole series of mental images…thanks!
And this was on a good day?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11
Such sweet sweet faces in this picture –
Lovely ..:)
nice thoughtful writing Chris.