The farm lane that lies between me and the rest of the world is not all that long but chocked full of adventures, surprises, heartache and promise. It is a thread, the connector. When I am away it is my life line to sanity and security, it is my enabler, my life force.
When I am home it is the conduit to everything that the farm cannot provide and frankly that isn’t much. However, it became the channel to advanced education, supplementary employment, and social networking.
Not gated with moats and alligators, there are many who have traveled down the lane, some invited and some not. Some would leave an indelible mark, some would come and go and never be remembered, others would never leave.
The farm has always been a destination and arrival tantalizing. The simple ride down the lane from the turning off the main road to the capping of the three knolls-first you see it then you don’t, then you do again- is awesome, thrilling and spectacular. It never fails to evoke an aura of paradise, wonder, and expanse. “Oh, my where have I landed?”
I have no memory of the very first time I came down that lane, but I must have been beyond myself with excitement. In 1951, the family had purchased the farm consisting of an estimated 152 acres with an old farm house and numerous decrepit-looking barns –all of these situated almost precisely in the middle of the land.
Work kept Jack-my Dad-at our home in Florida, but my Mom, Betty, my three brothers and I joined grandmother and granddaddy for a glorious summer on the farm in 1951. I had arrived and my life had officially begun.
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Ahhh... that farm lane.
ReplyDeleteWe only stayed for a few days, but they were a great few days.
The first time we saw the lane was in the dark, weren't realy sure if this was the right place, then saw your car waiting to show us the way in.
And then every day when we got back, pulling into the lane was like "arriving home".