Camera Clicks and Commentary from a Kansas Farm Wife
Small Town Christmas
Friday, May 16, 2014
Trip Down Memory Lane
The road to the pasture is lined with century-old cottonwood trees. Their green leaves waved a greeting in the evening breeze. The leaves shined a vibrant green after a short-lived spring shower had washed off the dust of the day.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a patch of purple. Randy saw it at the same time.
"Are those irises?" we asked each other.
They seemed a bit out of place. If there had been a farmstead there once upon a time, it was so long ago that the tell-tale signs were gone - no falling down barn, no cement foundation, no windmill tower dotting the landscape.
Yet there they were: Purple blossoms fragrant with scent, nestled under a cottonwood tree that sang a greeting with each whisper of the leaves in the breeze. They seemed a bit incongruous - so full of life among dying cedar trees and fallen, wind-blown branches.
On our trip back home from the pasture, we stopped. They reminded me of the purple irises that bloomed each spring in my Grandma Neelly's backyard. They looked like home.
Was it home to someone long forgotten? Did this patch of purple mark a farmstead mailbox long ago? Did someone plant the bulbs, knowing that springtime would bring majestic purple blooms and smiles?
This is not our normal path to the pasture. But this unfamiliar road was a straight trip down memory lane. And the blossoms yet to be unfurled spoke a promise of more blessings to come - maybe for someone else who chose a road less traveled and was blessed by memories colored purple.