September
My meadow.
Where I live is kind of nice, because it's close enough to "civilization" but we're also pretty secluded by the trees that entirely surround our property (there is only my house, and my grandmother's house here). Consequently, most of the land is forest, but at the end of my yard, there is a meadow it's pretty vast and starts to ease up a hill. Sometimes my dad cuts paths with the tractor throughout the meadow. There's one particular spot though in which he cuts a small clearing, no one ever really goes there, unless passing through for a walk. It's nice though. This is the place that I have chosen. (This is going to be a real treat when the snow comes hah...)
Today is perfect. It's not too warm outside, and it's breezy. There's only one smallish tree in the clearing, but it provides just enough shade. The grass here is stiff, and itchy. Reminder next time to bring a blanket or something. At first I sat and wondered what to even think about, my brain is going a thousand miles an hour today, so maybe I'll just write a little about the history today.
The reason for the meadow (I mean, why it's not just yard or forest), is that my great-grandfather used to have a greenhouse here, about 50 years ago if I had to guess. He and my great-grandmother moved here when my grandma was a little kid to go into business with I think it was the Hahn family, to start a greenhouse. So there used to be a small cluster of buildings, and I think one or two more houses. In some spots when you walk around, you can find part of a wall, a scrap of some asphalt, or I've even found a few, small terra-cotta pots.
I was fortunate enough to know my great-grandfather when I was young, though he never told me about the greenhouses himself, and if he did I was too young to remember. He passed away when I was 7. Even though it wasn't a lot of time to know someone, I still wish he was around, and sometimes I get sad when I think about him. But, coming to this meadow I'm reminded of him and try to put myself back in time to when there was a greenhouse where I now sit, and imagine him watering plants, or planting them and imagine I'm there too.
So, I love the history behind your place. Do you happen have an interest with heritage and traditions of land? Do you feel closer to your past, to your ancestory, specifically to your grandfather, because of this meadow and choosing to write about it? I particularly liked your description of the grass, scratchy!
ReplyDeleteWhenever you were talking about your great-grandfather, and how he died when you were 7, I thought about my own grandpa who died when I was about 12 or so. It's amazing how places can remind us of a person, like the meadow reminds you of your great-grandfather. I truly believe people's souls are still part of the people and places they loved the most.
ReplyDeleteI live with my mom in the house she grew up in, so it's full of memories. I can feel my grandpa's spirit watching over me, no matter where I am. We still even have a lot of his tools in the garage and traces of his life still remain. I know my grandpa will always be part of my life. Thanks for sharing!
I think it is so cool that you have a place so close to civilization that makes you feel that you are away from the world. I get that too on my trail rides- it's an amazing feeling. I'm also glad that you can feel connected to your grandparents in this spot and I think it's cool that you can find what he left- kind of like finding treasure or keys to your past. Thank you for choosing this place to share with us.
ReplyDeleteHow cool that you kind find different artifacts while walking around! I'm envisioning some kind of fun blog meets anthropological dig site. Your opening line "My meadow," really grabbed my attention. It was a short line and I wanted to find out more about this place.
ReplyDeleteThis place you've chosen is so rich with family and personal history. I look forward to getting to know it better.
ReplyDeleteYou might be interested in reading my friend Jen's memoir about her family's greenhouses and the loss of that part of their history.