NATURE'S BOUNTY

From the first time I stepped foot on our farm, I felt like I was in a new and different time and place. The farm hadn't been cared for so wild flowers were bursting forth at my every turn. A walk to the creek was an excursion to be experienced with all the senses.

Wild plum trees bloomed in majestic beauty and soon yielded fruit that fed the deer that ventured each day from across the field almost like clockwork. I often just sat at creek side, lost in time, marveling each day's panorama as it unfolded before my eyes. Busy beavers slithered from their work place into the creek once my presence was felt. Squirrels shook hickory nuts to the ground, preparing for lean days ahead. Possums crept along the water's edge while raccoons observed my presence from a distance. The sly old coyote ran back and forth across the pasture land looking for its prey.

I gathered wild flowers during summer and fall for bouquets that dried on curtain rods on my sun porch, reminding me of a past season or a season to come. Queen Anne's Lace, Chicory and other edibles took me on a journey to the past as I pondered how the Indians once used these plants to survive. My fall gathering of cattails always gave pause to how the Indians used this fascinating plant for building their wigwams, mats for the floors, food and twine.

Winter, a time for rest, gave equal joy as we again studied the tracks of animals that ventured closer to the house in search of food. Winter birds flocked to our feeders bringing hours of endless entertainment. And we rested from the spring planting and fall harvest to a building anticipation of the coming spring. The first little crocuses pushing their tiny heads through the snow brought pleasure to the entire family.

Forty years has passed, and I still feel the same awe today. A recent trip to pick blackberries with my son, his wife and their two boys was a joyous occasion as we tracked deer, coons, coyotes and red fox prints in the soft soil. I will never tire of God's splendor upon our land.

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