It's Haibun Monday and we are to write something about our hometown. Check out the responses to the prompt over at dversepoets.
Slaughterhouse Road
Slaughterhouse Road
Walking home from school over the "Old Slaughterhouse Road" had its pros and cons. The mile long trek across a small mountain built strong legs and heartened our souls. Alongside the road were meadows with wildflowers, tall grass full of grasshoppers and some horses, an occasional house or small farm. Halfway up on the other side were the dark, eery oak woods. Obviously, the gruesome fact of the then working cattle barn nestled therein was not lost on any of us. Often, frightened by our own imaginations, we ran past it as fast as we could. Walking downhill was easy, through the cherry orchards where we loved to run, climb and play, wading, lingering in falling pink and white blosssoms. There was a picture book view of the Columbia River gorge in the distance. We even hiked the road in the dead of winter instead of riding the school bus, throwing snowballs and sliding on the way.
Those moments of our youth are imprinted deep in our souls. When I close my eyes, I can almost put myself right back there in space and time, on Strawberry Mountain, almost like one lifts and moves the arm of a 45rpm record player to a previous groove.
Veiled footsteps in snow,
Echo screams of laughter, fear
Summer's blossoms buzz
This brought back memories for me too... those walks home from school and the small excursions we made... the snow and everything... but then all was developed and the walk became less exciting... so many changes when I grew up.
ReplyDeleteThanks for continually stopping by.
DeleteThere was always one place on the way home that was frightening (or that we managed to make frightening with the tales we told) and that we would have to rush past! Brings back childhood memories.
ReplyDeleteI think it is universal, yes.
Deletebeautifully written account of childhood memories in a different seasons. and each one a special link to friendships formed. i especially liked the last paragraph and the allusion to a groove in a well played record, a memory well carved in your soul.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you appreciate it. Thank you.
DeleteThis is a delight, Kathy. I LOVE the metaphor about the 45 record and the descriptions are so crisp. Those of us who grew up close to nature are so blessed to be able to return in memory.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Victoria..I really appreciate it.
DeleteI soooo relate to 'Walking home from school' and 'frightened by our own imaginations'. You are so right when you say about moments of youth as indelible. The Haiku is brilliant.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sumana..
DeleteI remember the fear of crossing the Kankakee River in a car. The river looked so big and the road windy. Your description of the fear of the cattle barn reminded me of that.
ReplyDeleteWe do have those childhood memories in common complete with grasshoppers and wildflowers. I try to make new memories in nature for fear of losing the old ones. Your haiku is stunning.
ReplyDeleteYou are very kind, Mish. Thank you.
DeleteOur walk to school had it's scary places too, and its dawdling one. Thanks for reawakening those memories!(K)
ReplyDeleteloved this, it's lovely. I can feel the walk -- reminds of when I walked to school when I was a kid.
ReplyDelete