a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

This Rock

is much larger than it looks and is part of a large limestone shelf behind the garden.  Just below a spring runs as the first full time source of live water that begins our creek.  The main springs join in further down.

The ledge is over grown now.  There are four to five rocks that I'm sure used to be one thousands of years ago but time and climate and other sources divided them.  They lay thick and solid almost touching but never moving...not in my life time.

Today I wanted to climb and touch them but along with briers, honeysuckle and Virginia Creeper there was also a fine crop of Poison Ivy so I didn't.  I stood at creek level and remembered.

I remembered the ongoing adventures my dad and all the grandchildren had here.  One rock sounds hollow when tapped with a hammer or a rock.  This sound was the beginning of The Treasure Hunt.

It was a sight to see...Dad leading a row of stair step grand children, each carrying their tool of choice, through the garden and down the bank to endless adventures.

The cracks around the hollow rock, filled with nature's debris,  were emptied with sand shovels, picks, tiny hands and patience.  Much laughter was always heard and many stories told with no limits to their imagination regarding what they might find.

When they grew tired Dad and the ducklings shouldered their tools and returned home to feed and rest.

The bottom edge was never reached but the digging never stopped. A day at the farm usually meant a treasure hunt with Grandpa Pete.  The digging crew grew smaller but they now had their own stories to add.

The children grew older and went their own way.

One day I came to visit and Dad was digging alone remembering.  The grandchildren will never forget.

17 comments:

Lynne said...

Love your stories Gail . . .
This one . . . of sweet memories . . .

Lee said...

Beautiful....your post took me to a place where I'd love to remain. :)

eileeninmd said...

Hello, childhood memories are the best. Great story and post. Happy Thursday, enjoy your day and the weekend ahead!

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

What a special memory.

Buttons Thoughts said...

Oh Gail this is beautiful and yes they will NEVER forget. HUGS B

gld said...

What a sweet memory.

We have a section in one field that is filled with barely showing limestone slabs but no springs.

Sandra said...

this makes me think of the song Precious Memories. this is one of your precious memories... i can see it in my mind while reading.. back in the day before electronics....

LindaG said...

Beautiful story, Gail. Thank you for sharing that with us.

Gorges Smythe said...

Love the memories!

Lynn Hasty said...

How beautiful!!
xo
Lynn

Ginny Hartzler said...

What wonderful memories! So this is really a big remembrance rock. Your dad sounds like he was so inventive and so much fun. The last sentence is heartbreaking.

Arkansas Patti said...

What a lovely story and memory. Kind of like that the bottom edge has not been found. That makes this a goal, a memory that is without end--that will just continue on.

Farm Girl said...

I love your stories and I still remember the Treasure Hunt you wrote about a long time ago. I hope someday you find that treasure. I like when you talk about the times when you were a girl with your Dad.

McGuffy Ann Morris said...

Your dad was wise. He knew the stuff of which memories are made, and he knew you could go back to them.

Terri @ Coloring Outside the Lines said...

What sweet memories for the grands to have..and hopefully pass on to their kids. Have a great weekend, Gail!

Plowing Through Life (Martha) said...

I love when you share these stories, Gail. You have so many heartwarming memories.

Susan Anderson said...

Delightful. And the last line brought tears to my eyes. What a dear man.

=)

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