Calls to a Child

Possibly we tell our mother where we are going, or possibly she knows she can find us at the creek if she needs us to come home early. She never needs us to come home early. A running creek in springtime calls to a child as irresistibly as it calls to any thirsty bird or hungry racoon, as irresistibly as it calls to any wild creature looking for a water place to lay her eggs. Margaret Renkl, The Comfort of Crows

For us growing up on the farm it was the gully that called to us. Or maybe it was the flower hill...or down the lane to the pasture where the old farm machinery became ships...or the pile of rocks became anything our imaginations wanted them to be. But mostly they were just a destination. I loved growing up on a farm...and I loved being back with my sisters these past couple of days.

LaVonn had some photos for us to go through that were still left from some of Angie's things. I was 3 years old in this photo and watching one of those black firework snakes you set on fire and watch grow. Anyone else remember those?

This view up the driveway with the barn and hay wagon is so familiar. I don't know how many times I rode my bike up and down the driveway to get to the gully or the black and white posts in the other direction. The driveway was sloped just enough that I learned to balance on the big family bike for the first time as I coasted down to the road.

The photo is black and white but Angie added a bit of color to my clothes. 

It's kind of a tradition for us to wander a greenhouse when we're together...and this one was not far from LaVonn's house in Evansville.

We had such a wonderful day going through photos...reminiscing and playing cards. And we even had another birthday celebration. 

Pure joy!