The Edge Of Country

Author: siggy

I have always lived at the edge of country.  Of course, some people are more divorced from it if they are surrounded by concrete but it is always there you just have to look a little harder.

Growing up I watched my mother plant vegetables and flowers and other things.  We had a mulberry and fig and apricot tree and some of the biggest blackberries I have ever seen.

It was a small plot of land but she tilled it well.  We had fresh string beans and tomatoes.  She loved roses.  The garden was a place she could disappear in.  And she often did for hours.

We lived in a bustling little city but that garden we had was an introduction to many things.  I learned to love deep red stemmed roses.

On weekends my father brought us into the country, mountains and shore but most of my life I lived in the edge of country.  I learned to appreciate what came my way.

Today I still love birds.  I have several bird feeders that I can view from our large living room windows and watch a steady parade of chickadees and titmouse and woodpeckers just to name a few.

It all started in Mom’s garden and the weekend trips we took as a family.  I learned to love the mountains and trees and lakes and and so many other things.