Thursday, March 16, 2006
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
a few of my favorite things
history and connection/family farm
even the Missouri is receding
Here, where I can see towns away to the east and west, I feel stripped down. Those who walked here, carrying the name I was given, built and grew and knew how their lives would go. Before them the same, related or not, they labored to plant and harvest, struggled against mean cold winters, reckless summer storms, wore the Midwest in the thickness of their skin and dryness of wit. In the restless waving of grass across the hills of the pasture, a parade of ghosts wisps by.
Before the cousins shot apart the windmill, or the collapsing of the chicken coop, when more of us lived and came to visit, when there were more of us here, this farm was alive.
Now it slowly decays and I am a visitor witnessing the beauty of its fade. ... Even the Missouri is receding. 9/04