Thursday, June 30, 2011

Another Time

The old house sat back the lane. Once a log house, later framed and painted white. The young couple sat on the  porch watching the comings and goings on Neff Road, a road more than likely graveled the same as the lane running off to the north of it.


I think, had I lived back then, that I would have spent many hours playing on that porch. I can well imagine neighbors sitting in the front yard and on the porch catching up on daily new. Peas were shelled, beans snapped and babies were rocked by the women who loved them.

I wonder who the man is running ahead of the others. The picture is creased and hazy, yet I strain to make out every piece of a history that preceded me. I have no memory of my parents at a young age. I have no memory of the front porch. I barely remember the backroom when it was the old summer kitchen, where soap was made and canning jars sat ready for the garden bounty. A time of horses. A time when a young farmer dreamed of a herd of milk cattle that would later be destroyed when disease traveled through the herd. A quieter time on a little road that even today has little traffic.

I want to sit on that porch I never knew. I want a personal glimpse of that time in history that has captured the imagination of writers for decades.

The house sat on the rise off Neff Road. It was another time when a porch looked out over the changing seasons.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

the woman has a shovel~~~to bury something/one or looking for fishing worms!!!!!

Pamela Loxley Drake said...

I couldn't figure out what she was carrying. It's probably Mom taking the shovel away from Dad who buried everything. How I love these old pictures!