THE MOST POETIC SCENE AT POP'S FARM

Maybe there are a few nice, special places on this 
earth, given to each of us for our happiness and 
memories...and after all, are we not a part of all 
we've met...?

Much has been written about POP'S PLACE and
today I am going back there again.
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In your memory of maybe your grandad's
     or maybe your uncle's farm......
What do you reckon was the most poetic
     thing about them?

I knew POP'S Place, like the back of my hand;
    It was poetic, all over!

It was poetic in its incredibly still, warm, 
    afternoons...

Then came those days with the sun and 
    warmth, but gentle afternoon breezes
with slight gusts to swirl the sandy soil
    slightly, or just sift it along, over 
the top of older drifts.

You had the feeling that sand, a million years
    old---knew secrets ...that it would 
not divulge.

    Isn't there a poem, something like--"a boy's
will is the wind's will...and the thoughts
    of youth are long, long thoughts!"
That poem fitted being at Pop's....

He had an old retired "knifer" made of two- by -
    twelves, standing edge-wise to straddle
the cotton, and with long angling blades
    to knife the weeds---weathered and half-covered
with sand; it had a rusted iron seat---perfect
    for little boys to sit on and daydream!

What is more homey out on a farm on a quiet
    afternoon, than rambling, roving, 
hungry "puck-picking" chickens, seeking those
    invisible, juicy, snack morsels they somehow
spot on the ground...here, there, and everywhere,
    as they enjoy their rambling freedom....

A red-tailed hawk is slowly soaring and circling
    about, over the  farm, and in particular
over the barn, chicken pen and garden patch---
    hoping to spot a mouse or a small
juicy snake!

Yes, and poetic is my grandad's rock fence---
     Built in 1938 of brownish-maroon
rocks, quarried from who-knows-where...
     Beautiful fence three to five feet tall,
Encircling the whole house area.

Across the fence is a half-section field
    of cotton, with rows so straight,
people cannot believe their eyes!
    Yes, a miracle! Pop believed in
straight rows in farming and in life!

Then there was his garden, guarded on
    both sides by two or three rows of
tall corn---beans, black-eye peas, 
    squash, okra, cantaloupe, green beans,
watermelons, cucumbers, pumpkins,
    and tomatoes!

There was a cozy, but sparse room
    on the back of the garage for
the "boys..."

There was a "shelf"under his big barn 
    roof, filled with bundles of clean
hay and alfalfa; a needy family could
     have lived there---as one family,
in fact did, in a similar barn in John
    Grisham's "The Painted House." 

Pop's whole property, fence, house,
    garage, barns--all was 
new in 1938, and I was there!

His giant elm windbreak, west
of his house, was a marvelous
    retreat for little boys.

In his back bedroom, which was
    usually the den de facto
for farmers---in those days---
    over in the corner sat his Philco
upright radio; it entertained and
    informed him and Mom through
many cold winters.

Alongside it, in a little space in the
    corner, was my uncle's plain-stock
unengraved-wood Cloverine Salve
    .22 rifle.

Poetry and exciting places and things
    were practically oozing from every pore
of my grandad's farm....everywhere
    I looked!

I, often on hot afternoons, sat in the cool
    grape-smelling air under his grape
arbor. Two large stainless milk buckets
     swung at the end of the arbor, airing for 
the next milking---getting  fresher with every
    breeze that came along!

The loose  sand was scooting around on the
        older sand, and swirling ever so slightly---

 Several chickadees were flitting around in
    a nearby bush, making all kinds of
quarreling racket!

The old windmill was turning in the wind and
there was its familiar "CLUNG! CLUNG!"

It all touched me. The most poetic scene that
     day was a combination of all this---the grape arbor,
  the airing, gently-swinging milk buckets, the swirling-
     sand, the playing chickadees....and
  the wonderful smell of grapes!

******30*****

BY MIL

7/17/14