A lifetime ago

I spent my summers on the farm

I can still smell the fresh cut alfalfa

As Grampa towed my cousins and me around the field

Hoisting the bales and stacking them high up onto the wagon

As it jostled back and forth swaying to the music

Of his sturdy old green John Deere tractor..Pap…Pap…Pap

PapPapPapPap…..Pap….Pap….Pap

We’d swat at the honeybees as we passed their hives

On each rotation of the field trying not to get stung

Bee tenements if you will

But at season’s end Grampa would claim his share of the bounty

Stacking honeycombs in the kitchen dripping with liquid gold

Sticky fingered joy

A lifetime ago

I gathered eggs.

I knew every nook and cranny where the hens laid them

We chased rabbits, descendents of escapees from Grampa’s cages

Did you know a rabbit squeals when captured?

We always let them go

A lifetime ago

I stacked firewood for the winter ahead

Not for a fireplace, or a romantic evening

Simply for heat

A lifetime ago

Those that had them, had telephones connected by party lines

One ring for Grampa, three rings for the Schultz’s

You never knew if the line was going to be busy

Until you picked it up and heard the neighbor’s voices on the other end

A lifetime to go

Today

My smart phone has more computing power

Than the lunar lander and mission control had in 1969

And I can choose from a million ringtones

I now stack firewood for the fireplace

And if I’m lucky, a romantic evening

The doc frowns on my consumption of eggs

I just smile at the bunnies along our dog walk trail

There’s a local honey farm nearby and no bee stings

I couldn’t lift a bale up to my waist let alone to the top of the hay wagon

I have to settle for the smell of fresh cut grass from the lawnmower

And I still miss the Pap…Pap….Pap… of that old John Deere tractor

Copyright 2012 Patrick Granfors