Just down our country road, on the property which is now a Metro "Nature Park", there once stood a house. Mom remembers when a family lived there. When I was growing up, the house was abandoned, and hay was stored inside - stacked to the attic.
The house eventually burned down (they said it was 'spontaneous combustion' from all that hay) ... and the site became first part of the field, and then part of the woods.
Each spring reminders of that old homestead emerge ... daffodils, lilacs and some beautiful white irises.
This year, one of the iris flowers shared its heart with me.
A reminder of the tame life it once had?
Or a celebration of the freedom it now enjoys?
The house eventually burned down (they said it was 'spontaneous combustion' from all that hay) ... and the site became first part of the field, and then part of the woods.
Each spring reminders of that old homestead emerge ... daffodils, lilacs and some beautiful white irises.
This year, one of the iris flowers shared its heart with me.
A reminder of the tame life it once had?
Or a celebration of the freedom it now enjoys?
