As we stuggled through the underbrush and around fallen trees, we found little evidence that anyone had once lived here. The property had once belonged to my grandmother and her father before her. The land was wild. Finally, I found the hearth. The rocks were covered with leaves and a small tree was entwined among the them. In a nearby stream, the water sparkled in the dappled sunlight. I smiled when I found a walnut tree just like the one on my grandmother’s farm.
Even imagination painted a strange crossing of time and place. 11-09-25