I bought that little chunk of land that wandered its way down from my grandparents hands where digging out, buffering up and building over to create a place for grandkids to go use the bathroom found an outhouse in the stead of a summer cottage. Their term with the land made improvements of electricity by way of a pole brought down from the main line and water surveyed after the true boundary was established. I bought the little chunk of land for fear that all their efforts (and ours) would go to waste. After someone came along and created a trash dam, it has begun to flood up, all the land sites around it... including my aunts pony ride haven, holding water from the point of rubbish wall designed by whomever so desired to see it stagnate. The waterfowl, fit only for gazing upon, and the field deer are there. The morels have taken hold and the portabellas grow at their own pace haphazardly across the area. Trees turn red at the peak of fall and summer songbirds play their tune all to create a respite anyone could love. Only five miles away is a class A private school that prompts youth at early age thru a ripened age to be all they can be. It encourages social flexibility and athletic intellect as well as skill. That, on an all sports lake that touts its own area of repose for those desiring tet au te and bragging rites. Its the place where winter birds fly away for sanctity of the Southwest, but return for the warm embrace and familiar surroundings offered at this park like environment. My balcony house that overlooks the pond and waterfowl to the west still awaits my final demise. Im considering moving further from where I am because my back hurts... and it isnt time to retire.
Posted on: Sat, 30 Nov 2013 14:12:21 +0000
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