Field of Dreams

I wish this old photo was clearer. That's me center front with my arms spread wide. I don't know what I was doing or who took it-probably with a Brownie camera. While it is blurry you still can see the field that led from our chicken coop clubhouse to our grandparent's old farmhouse. The chicken coop would have been to the left of me.

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.

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