Sunday, August 13, 2017


It's a summer day. I know I took this picture and I know it was the 4th of July. I don't know what year. That's okay. It makes it timeless. It's my grandparent's home in New Hampshire.

This is what comes to mind when someone says "your family home". We moved frequently enough that I don't have a childhood memory of another permanent place. This was "home".

A big New England farmhouse. A fair amount of property that went with the house, some planted in pines, some fields overgrown with brambles and berry bushes, a few apple trees going wild, an old graveyard under big oaks far back in the woods. A lot of land for a boy to explore.

I found this picture in the course of my scanning project and it brought me to a standstill, lost in a reverie of my childhood and the America I grew up in.

1 comment:

Borepatch said...

The past isn't dead. It's not even past.

- William Faulkner