|the old pond 12/13/2020|
It's been a while since I've been back in the woods beyond the short trail past the reservoir. With good walking days in short supply until spring, Deuce and I set about making a large loop. We walked along an old homestead lane, crossed over to the old pond, and back down the hill past what is left of the homestead, which isn't much. A few shrubs gone wild, the remnants of an old meadow, the depressions where the house and barn stood, and old grapevines as thick as my arm are all that remains.
And yet I bet if I walk that trail in the spring, there will be daffodils and daylilies in abundance. The forsythia row will bloom with a splendor it lacked in bygone days when it was kept pruned.
|dry creekbed where I used to play|
While I was pleased to see water in the pond, I was not so pleased to find a familiar old creek bed dry. When I was a girl, about thirteen or fourteen, myself and two girlfriends would ride our bicycles back the lane to that section of the creek and while away the hours. We built a rather substantial dam, which is still detectable, and ended up with water that was hip deep. Not a bad feat for three country kids. This creek was entirely spring-fed so I do wonder what happened. Did the earthquake of August 23, 2011, close the spring? It's possible. It's been that long since I was back there.
Our walk was a good metaphor for life. You traverse a path both old and new and find things changed. Some changes are for good and some for not so good. Deuce and I had a great time just being outside in the woods on a sunny afternoon.
It's a good thing we took advantage of the day. This afternoon, there are three inches of snow on the ground and it's still coming down. It's a good day to advance old projects and dream a few new.
The Lady of Holly Tree Manor