It's Not Flip Flop Weather...

and the briers tore my feet.  It was hard to move through but I was revisiting the past and some memories.

Imagine the brush gone, the humus hollowed out from this area.  Now imagine a real top of an old wood cook stove and old dishes lining the rocks.  This was my "playhouse".

Within the semi-circle of ledge rock, I had a whole house.  The entry was where the small cedar now grows.  The rocks were swept clean and the hollow was leveled flat with hours of dirt work by a child who could not yet read.  Feeling like I was miles from home Mom could check on me from the kitchen window and let me continue to imagine great adventures. My first dog Helen was with me every step of the way.

Today I had company.

The girls explored my old hang out

I believe it passed inspection.

It also made me want to clear again

so my grandchildren

can have great adventures 

in a special place

full of old memories.

The Cedar Glade...

is what it was always called.  Mostly cedar, pine and few hardwoods grew here on the rocky side of the ridge.  Before the tornado you could not see the sky line well.  Now it looks bare to me.

 Seeing the top of the ridge is something new in my lifetime.

Years before my memory Dad and Mom had goats

 on this hill side keeping the underbrush clear.

  The briers make it almost impossible to walk.

Here lie the roots of an ancient cedar torn up by the tornado but the loggers were able to save it for lumber.  Much they could not for if a tree is twisted so will the lumber tend to twist.

You can see the healed twist in this small tree.

Many cedars could not be used for lumber

but can be split for fence posts

A pair of Osage Orange or Bodark trees

 One gone one twisted and split but still living. 

Supposed to be the best tree for making bows.

It is sad to see the destruction 

but the tiny cedar trees are growing again.

In sixty years you'll never know the damage that was here.

Returning from my walk

A frost bitten vinca tries to convince me its spring.