Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Home

A view of the backyard of my childhood home
Home

Summers were humid and hot
and barring gentle afternoon showers
we'd dash in and out of the sprinkler,
the cool tickle of grass beneath our feet
with the sweet bliss of backyard's shade,
which started to arrive just past noon
and loomed large by four o'clock,
to protect us.

If we weren't braving the heat - riding our pony
and enjoying a forbidden dip in the river
(Mother feared the Rock's swift current)
we'd drag the wooden picnic table over
and play Crazy 8's, Go Fish, and War.
Sometimes Monopoly, but we often
ended that game in a fight
as it dragged on too long.

Brown - not reddish or beige -
just a dark stain applied every few years
graces my childhood fortress,
yet Mother's orange, violet, yellow,
and red flowers pop against it,
various greens spike and unfurl
agains the bricks that line the bottom half
so it never appears dull.

The gravel drive swoops around
as opposed to straight in from the road
giving it a bit of elegance -
the hayfield (or corn depending on the year)
sways with the wind,
the trees having matured, frame the yard;
walnut, oak, evergreen, red cedar -
all have become intimate guardians.

Not many my age can slip into their old room,
feel sixteen again, walk around and touch
places one's toddler feet tread,
recall names of neighbors that once occupied life,
step beneath the same shade mid July
fifty years later.

Margaret Bednar, July 18, 2017

My Mother's green thumb

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - The Tuesday Platform"

I just returned from visiting my parents... not sure I walked into my room and felt 16 again (a little bit of creative license) - but it certainly brought me back a bit...


10 comments:

Jan/JFM said...

Very lovely. Because you were so kind to share this nostalgic moment here...I was reminded of my own youth so many years ago~

Martin Kloess said...

Elegantly woven. Magic moment brought to life through your words and heart. (we were there)

Jim said...

Love it Margaret. It would make a good intro for your memoirs. Almost envious but that wouldn't help. Sounds like you had,a nice childhood. My room was only mine for sleeping, it was our front porch. Sonetime since 2007 when we sold it the house was bulldozed and burned. Corn grows there now. We visited it July 4 and it is the current post on my "Jim's Little Blog.
..

Jim said...

Love it Margaret. It would make a good intro for your memoirs. Almost envious but that wouldn't help. Sounds like you had,a nice childhood. My room was only mine for sleeping, it was our front porch. Sonetime since 2007 when we sold it the house was bulldozed and burned. Corn grows there now. We visited it July 4 and it is the current post on my "Jim's Little Blog.
..

Toni Spencer said...

Your backyard reminds me of my youth's backyard. What a lovely view and portion of your life you have shared with us.

Thotpurge said...

Indeed, to still have it, to touch and feel and remember and cherish is wonderful...

Kerry O'Connor said...

Seeing where you grew up has helped me understand your connection to nature, your love of the outdoors. How fortunate you are to be able to return to the same home after so many years.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

I love this soo soo much! Such beautiful and poignant descriptions here.. especially love; "The gravel drive swoops around as opposed to straight in from the road giving it a bit of elegance -the hayfield (or corn depending on the year)sways with the wind,the trees having matured, frame the yard;walnut, oak, evergreen, red cedar -all have become intimate guardians."

Magaly Guerrero said...

In my head, I'm outside... spinning and laughing under a gentle summer shower.

Vijita Pillai said...

Poignant, lovely!