Springs and Fields and Autumn Skies

From the first spring the water flows to join with the second and third spring to make our creek.  I always thought the first was a wet weather spring but it is still flowing enough to fill the branch.

I always talk about how clear the water is but usually the dogs hit it before I get to show you.  Here's a clear spot beginning to look like fall.  A good gully washer or chuck floater would clean the creek out so it would not get as muddy.

It doesn't stay clean long when the dogs cool off.  Deep enough for some to swim.  Lizzy is staying away from the deep water and tip toes through the shallows.

The dogs failed to see my tiny frog.  There were several jumping in.  The dry weather has thinned their swimming holes.

A cowless field with blue skies and mown grass that only deer and rabbits will eat this year is a bitter sweet sight.  I'll talk differently when the ice and snow are blowing.  Will NOT miss the cattle then.

Home...

I think I've lived here before.  The valley is too familiar.  If I listen I can hear the ages over lapping.  I hear the laughter of children and smell the smoke of campfires.

History's voice comes from the land.  The old wagon road, the chips of flint and chert, the lay of the valley tell me what once was.

I read the dirt and see thousands of years before me in layers.  The dirt speaks as plainly as if it were written. I see great floods, fire and then years and years of soil building.  I seek the section when the Native Americans lived here.  I touch it and think I understand.

Springs flow and make this valley rich with game.  It was and is a perfect place to live.  I am in awe at the natural fortification of this beautiful life-filled valley.

As the day turns out the light the fog rises.  The frogs sing for their mates.  Life continues here with or without me.

In awe and wonder I know I have been here before...

This place is part of me.   This place at the end of a dead end road in the middle of nowhere is home.

I hear the drums beat and voices rise in song.

Like A Rock....

The town of Eureka Springs was completely rebuilt two times after terrible fires.  They decided to use the rocks available to build on, in and around with rock exteriors.  This fascinates me.

The first healing springs belonged and were used by the Native Americans.  We (the non-natives) butted our noses in and took over.  Hundreds of thousands of people flocked into Eureka Springs to be cured of every thing.  Tent cities turned into frame houses, into more wooden houses and then after the disasters they tended to build more wisely.

Please keep in mind we have two teenagers with us so most pictures include and revolve around them.  Probably my last vacation with them since I won't be so cool as they age.

One of many spring basins we visited.

Above Basin Park Spring in downtown

Notice how they just built around the rock that was there.

Another spring basin

Sixty-six springs in all

Many on private land but some we could enjoy.

Beware many tales and pictures ahead.

We took the Ghost Tour at The Famous Crescent Hotel...

so prepare to be scared!!!

A Post Of Hope

A small chunk of ice remains.

Mere inches away is the new spring growth of water cress.

Spring is near!

Praise God!

From My Imagination

Father Sky promised rain. His promises were empty like the clouds that moved across Him. Rain was but a fading memory and a dim hope. Winter babies, soon to walk, had never felt the rain. It was only a story told by the elders when the small ones could not sleep.

The People had gathered to water when the rains no longer came. This was not their always home. In a vision, a wise woman was shown this valley. By the signs, she led them here.
The valley, invisible from any distance, was nestled at the base of a stony hill. The other three sides gently sloped into the hidden valley fed by three springs. The trees on all four sides stood guarding the secret they had sheltered for untold years. In the shallow bowl of the valley the green grasses waved and animals came to feed and drink.
Mother Earth had brought them here, if not to prosper, at least to survive. They gave thanks to the spirits of the animals that fed them. Careful to use only what they needed, plants were left to resupply. Mother Earth cared for them. They honored Her with respect.
The People stayed.
They played. They hunted.
They fished. They laughed.
They lived.
And the rains came and Mother Earth smiled.