Sunday, March 31, 2013
Field of Dreams
Trudging through the hayfield is my fellow-cousin-girls-club-member-of-the-chicken-coop leading two of our little students back through the field-probably on their way home after class. They look like they were dressed up so it might have been a special day at the chicken coop schoolhouse. It looks like everyone had a great day. Stools seem to have been gathered outside for some reason. You can see an old record player with a collection of 45s waiting to be played. Funny thing about that-the chicken coop clubhouse didn't have electricity. But when you use your imagination-that doesn't matter. Maybe that's what I was doing-singing? Anyway, you can see the water pipe that stretched from the pumphouse to the barn and my uncle's old car parked up by the back door.
But it's the field that stirs the most fun memories. It was not just a hayfield. It was a field of dreams; a field of pure imagination as we'd run and hide and fight the bad guys and make hay houses and talk and dream and wonder about the world around us and it was all free-like the wind rippling over the field.