Where the Willow Tree Grows

Where do you go when your heart longs for home but there is no home in which to return?

I was fortunate enough to have grown up in the country. We were poor, our family never owned a home, living in 7 different places. I have fond memories of every one of them; fields and creeks, barns and tree houses, cats, dogs, horses, cows, chickens and ducks. How I wish I could return to my favorite spot in the hayloft , or show my grand kids the rickety raft tied at the edge of the pond, or  the tree house my brother built in the big tree above the creek....

My parents divorced years ago, dad has since passed away and my dear mother is in a nursing home.

Before you stop reading this sad tale, please come with me to my adapted home, that feeds my country-heart longings.

Come with me to Emma Lane, where my friends Ric and Bernie have lived and loved each other for 38 years!   When my country loving roots need nourished, I am blessed to be welcomed here!  I am greeted with warm hugs and the heavenly smells of Bernie's Pot Roast, which is THE best I have ever had! ( Sorry Mom)

The front porch swing creaks in the breeze that is scented with honeysuckle. Almost every seat inside the house and along the back porch are rocking chairs! 24 of them! Ric says the only thing that doesn't rock in this place is the music!

HOME SWEET HOME!

Where late summer flowers ramble freely over fences,

Gooseberries hang heavy, just daring you to taste....

and 28 birdhouses nestled here and there make for some happy birds who all sing their chorus of thanks in the early morning!

 I wander through the garden picking the last of the raspberries, I marvel at the size of the rhubarb plant, and wonder if tonight's dinner will include Bernie's amazing rhubarb pie! There are pumpkins unable to hide their orange as they grow fatter under the tangle of leaves

Out in the pasture under the bridge, Farmer Ric has planted Squash and Zucchini where they ramble with abandon!

I look back from the pasture at this little home I love, and smile at the thought of my bedroom , with windows flung wide open, where tonight when I crawl under the Chenille bedspread, the cold night  air smelling of fresh cut hay, will float over me like a dream from my childhood, complete with dogs barking in the distance, and the "chht chht chht" of sprinklers....The covey of turtle doves  alongside the house whisper soothing coos throughout the night...

I am brought back from my daydream as I gaze upon the giant willow tree, which is after all the center of this special place, not to mention the star of my story!

  

 

Thirty years ago...Ric and Bernie stuck two willow branches in a bucket of water. The roots soon sprouted, the twigs were stuck in the earth....It has withstood storms of wind, ice and snow.

When the sun goes down..... the chandelier hanging low in its branches begins to glow , the crickets begin their song,

and  that my friends...

is when the magic happens.....

to be continued.

( Chandelier in the Willow Tree)