Our 3 acre yard consists of this: the house and yard, a stretch of prairie grass, then the bush.The bush has seen forts built, trees climbed, and paint ball madness from behind wood and tire barricades. It has heard giggles and gossip and war cries. It has grown a fully roofed hide-out and lured an old trailer into its mosquito-rich depths. It has yielded for our 6 kids and their friends wood ticks, scrapes and natural treasures. Queer sticks, odd stones and hours of imagination run riot.And whenever I mowed our lawn, I mowed a path through the prairie grass to the bush for the kids.
Recently I had cause to comb the depths of the bush for some sticks for a craft and I discovered a world gone silent yet bursting with story.
Our youngest is nearly 17, the only one still living at home. The bush is quiet now except for the birds and frogs.
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And yet I still mow that path.
LIke the previous comments…my favorite post…love the still-mowed trail and the title…everything.
What a treasure.
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That is such a special place Christina. I think this is one of my favourite posts yet. One day the path will lead grandchildren… (not that you’re in a rush ;))
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I think years later when I look back, this will be one of my own favourite posts too.
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