Feeling Nostalgic

My brother-in-law, Ronnie, cut my back field this past weekend. I decided to take a walk back there to just look at it. It was quite and just a field, but it sure felt good. The first photo is of the edge of the yard before you begin walking down the path to the back field. There really is a path there!

It's a lovely afternoon here in Tennessee. There's a slight breeze and the temperature is about 78 degrees. There seems to be a time in August every year when we have a cool spell. Autumn is right around the corner. The trees are letting go of some of their green, I hear the harsh stridor caw of the crows, and the song of the katydids. All this pleases my senses. I've enjoyed this time of year for as long as I can remember. Nostalgia is probably a good word to describe how I feel right now. Momma would take us to downtown Memphis to go shopping for school clothes. School would start soon and the trees would turn lovely colors.
This photo is of the old oak tree where my father built us a tree house, or I should say a tree floor. It was just a floor with no sides and no top. During the summer I would climb up there to read a Nancy Drew mystery, the latest Book Mobile or Weekly Reader book. Sometimes I would climb higher up the tree, or just lay back and daydream. On Sundays, my girlfriend, Ramona, and I would climb up there and eat Sunday dinner. It was a real get away! The old oak has some dead places in it, but I certainly remember it with fondness.


Why would I take a photo of bushes? This is the spot where my mother had her clothes line. It was a good 50 yards from the house. She washed clothes and hung them to dry in this spot everyday for years. No matter the time of year, I can remember her hanging clothes out to dry. Of course, when my sister and I were tall enough we had to start hanging clothes to dry. It wasn't much fun when the weather was cold. In those days before the wonderful fabrics they have now, we also had to iron our clothes. A chore I never seemed to mind.


Almost to the back field. It only takes a couple of minutes to walk from the house to the field. But, when you're remembering your childhood, it takes a lot longer. There is a small, very small hill just before you enter into the field. It's as if you were walking into a sunken bedroom or den in your home. Growing up, it was more dense with bushes than it is now.






Here it is. The back field, maybe 4 acres or so. For several years this whole field was full of Dewberries. Ronnie told me there were some trees in this field that were at least 3 inches around on the trunk. The rest of the property is woods. There is a creek in the back where we would swim. At Thanksgiving my cousins, John, Dan and Quinn would go hunting back there.

I'm so thankful that I've ended up at the old homestead. I feel at home. How would I have felt living in the home Brent and I had bought together? I don't know. I do know that Brent supported me in my decision to move home to care for Daddy. Brent knew this house needed a lot of work and was willing to work to make it our home. Now, it's up to me to finish what we started. I feel blessed to have my sister and brother-in-law next door.