Splashing through history…

Huff, puff…

Jogging through the woods…

Mud slicked shoes.

Soaked socks.

Amanda (Polly’s daughter) leads the way.

We leap over creeks,

and tip-toe on the outer edge of the horse trail,

where the mud is more manageable.

The recent rain introduced a web of interweaving streams…

it’s hop scotch non-stop…

Heads down, focused on the next three steps.

Between gasps of breathes and pauses at obstacles,

Amanda talks me through farm and family history,

as I steal brief glances of great sycamores,

marveling at the age and grandeur,

before splashing through another mud-puddle.

…

A recently fallen tree has blocked the path…

As we climb over, Amanda directs my attention to a clearing entrance up ahead…

We jog up,

and slow to a walk…

From the dark of the woods, my eyes adjust…

A vast expanse…

Powerlines stretch endlessly from left to right…

Perfectly straight lines of metal wire cut through the natural chaos of the woods.

Amanda points across to the other side of the woods…

Where a path disappears into darkness.

Decades ago, the lady that lives in the farmhouse through the woods

would ride her horse on these paths with medical supplies to treat the sick.

…

The history of the farm goes deep.

The land, coupled with the people, has a story to tell.

We turn left, away from the doctor lady’s woods,

and follow a different path…

Back into the woods, we skip through puddles,

and skirt along age old streams.