Yes indeed, and you can see it above; my childhood home in Southern Illinois, just waiting for me to bust though the screen door … slammity bammin’ it to beat the band. My formative years were blessed with this environment and my mind still seeks to rest there. Silent walks in blazing moonlight through high-drifted snow; rain-washed hot days with bare toes mud-bathing in fresh plowed fields; cornsilk rolling and grapevine smokes (hack ack ack); spooky corn shocks (shuck stacks) marching the morning mist, and my particular favorite … sunlight streaming through barn walls bringing hay to glitter.
Then came a different day than all the rest. This sweet farm home was lifted into the eye of an EF5 tornado while below the destruction of 18 outbuildings took place. Sliding down the writhing trunk of the wind of winds we were set down with a subtle thump, leaving very nearly only the bedroom in which we rode it out. Cuts and bruises were the only injuries. The family psyche has forever been altered by this event, though not negatively. Each of us accepted the change quite well and despite long-term adjustments … along with purposeful “round the kitchen table” therapy sessions … it was and is unanimously seen as a necessary movement in our particular wheel of living that relocated and thereby introduced us to new life directions. We were collectively blessed by the miracle of survival and the push toward new beginnings.
Though my personal sanctuary ended abruptly, it is still the place most sought in my mind’s eye when times are hard or there is simply need for a touch of peace. Meditation often includes the aroma of sun-warmed pears just out of reach on a wild tree climb, raucous pecan tumblings to a tin roof on a breezy day, honey bee buzz in the chimney flu, or Jack Frost forming woodland trails on the morning window panes.
I would imagine my last thoughts will include a remnant of these precious memories.
There is a beautiful postscript to this story and it is shown below. Not long ago a dear friend and artist extraordinaire (S. A. Kerr) gifted me with a painting of my special place. I am in awe of her talent and the absolute replication of my heart.
~ Eve ~
The Walking Owl
For the love of stones … and more …