Sunday Afternoon Drive
We rarely take a drive "just because."
But, there was something about the fall day - the sunshine and the fruition of a long dry summer. It called us and we answered.
The river winds up a valley into the Blue's and ends at a small park that was dedicated years ago by the rotary club and a now defunct pine mill. We hadn't driven up the south fork in years.
In the valley the fruit orchards have been cut down leaving fields of silent s
tumps and memories of Red Delicious apples and Bartlett pears. Wild blackberries, elderberry, and other native plants are abundant along the roadways. One reminded me so much of snow on the fence that I was hesitant to touch it for fear it would melt in my hand.
Once the pavement ends, the gravel road gives one the feeling of those bygone days of buggies and box lunches. At one curve there was a line of celestial black locust trees that demanded we stop and walk beneath them just for the pleasure of looking up.
I heard a soft whinny and turned to see three horses beyond the trees near the canyon's edge. One was particularly interested in me and followed his curiosity to the fence. I was sorry that I didn't have an apple or a carrot to offer. He posed briefly and then wandered away when I produced nothing for his efforts.
We continued on to where the road ends at the park.
There the pine trees worship the sky
and the river babbles in tongues as it prays through the rocks on its journey down the mountain
We wondered why we've stayed away so long.
But, there was something about the fall day - the sunshine and the fruition of a long dry summer. It called us and we answered.
The river winds up a valley into the Blue's and ends at a small park that was dedicated years ago by the rotary club and a now defunct pine mill. We hadn't driven up the south fork in years.In the valley the fruit orchards have been cut down leaving fields of silent s
tumps and memories of Red Delicious apples and Bartlett pears. Wild blackberries, elderberry, and other native plants are abundant along the roadways. One reminded me so much of snow on the fence that I was hesitant to touch it for fear it would melt in my hand.
Once the pavement ends, the gravel road gives one the feeling of those bygone days of buggies and box lunches. At one curve there was a line of celestial black locust trees that demanded we stop and walk beneath them just for the pleasure of looking up.
I heard a soft whinny and turned to see three horses beyond the trees near the canyon's edge. One was particularly interested in me and followed his curiosity to the fence. I was sorry that I didn't have an apple or a carrot to offer. He posed briefly and then wandered away when I produced nothing for his efforts.
We continued on to where the road ends at the park.
There the pine trees worship the sky
and the river babbles in tongues as it prays through the rocks on its journey down the mountain
We wondered why we've stayed away so long.
Comments
Didn't read because I have to leave in a second, but I wanted to at least pop in to say "hey"...I'm not even posting at my place so I can at least pop in to a few. And, I realize there's no such thing as "catching up" on reading your faves....you just gotta kind of start over. And, that is almost cussable.
Shoot. Darn. Crapola.
I'll be back in a bit...and will try to regain some kind of momentum:/.
Thanks for sharing. I really love your description of the river, that's exactly what it sounds like.