Today I went outside and sat on the porch, just needing a minute of some quiet and contemplation. Knowing me and knowing I pretty much always have a pen and some paper nearby in case the urge to write strikes me I sat down and immediately had the urge to write something from the heart.
This a reflection on my heritage and the land I call my home. It was started in the 1890’s when my family settled on it, and that is fascinating to me.
“I love how the trees here move when the wind blows. I love how the grass is green and the birds sing.
I love the heritage here, how I can feel those before me.
I love every piece of old equipment and how it creaks. To someone else, its just a piece of junk. But to me its a peep into my past.
I love the warm summer days here, the snowy driveway in the winter, the gold yard here in the fall.
Not everybody knows their history – but I do.
Not everybody lives in a small town that is back in the slow lane – but I do.
Country air does wonders for the soul, and the closeness I feel to God out here is intoxicating.
The quiet, the dove, the sparrow.
Clouds whip past like a parade, and man are they beautiful.
This place talks to me. Its where I feel most comfortable and see so much potential.
Its so quiet. Away from all the hustle and bustle.
If I focus hard I can see the olden days fluttering past like an old film.
The old house sits solemnly on its little knoll, rusted roof and all. Spirals and gingerbread molds occupy the roof and sides, taking you way far back.
If you close your eyes, you’ll see a lady in gingham sitting on a metal porch swing peeling apples. Yes, apples.
There is an apple tree, a pear tree and walnut tree happily rooted from this era.
A man walks up to the porch, takes off his hat and says hello.
His dinner is ready, his house tidy and the family is content.
The land is plowed, sowed and waiting for rain.
Life is beautiful here, in every era.
Simplicity is beautiful here, and so is here.
I’ve been to many places, but none have ever been to the caliber of here.
Simplistic heritage will never go in any era we are in – because it is time itself.
Knowing where you come from is key to who you are.
I live where I come from every day – and it is beautiful.
Here I am happy and free to be me – because it is who I am.”
When I write and the urge hits me, I just write. I forget rules of writing and grammar and all that goes with it – and expressively write freely. It is a beautiful and captivating thing.
I hope you have enjoyed what I found myself writing, hopefully you have found some thoughts to ponder from it yourself. But whatever you are doing now, just remember, there is beauty in simplistic heritage.