She ran through the hot sand
trying to reach the pond at the back pasture of GranDad's land.
Cane pole in hand, bucket full of worms,
Nothing needed her attention, no one knew that she was even gone.
She sees it as she tops the rise, Cold blue water ripples below as the breeze sends tiny ripples across the surface. She just can't wait to sink in her toes
and loose the burden's she carries as
she sinks below its cold clean surface.
She floats quitely across to her favorite spot, crawls quitely to shore,
baits her hook with the fattest of worms
and waits. The sun shines down on her wet skin and a cool gentle breeze floats across, Drying her hair and clothing within minutes. This is where she would choose to be at any time of day. It just seemed to her that it washed all her cares away. She lay back on the bank under the big old oak tree and thought back to her last visit here before she had to leave and go back to the city.
She had helped milk the cows and feed the chickens and pigs and couldn't wait like today, to make her excape. This special spot was where she learned to swim.
It was the summer she turned 5 and Gramps thought it was well past time she learned. Thinking back she could still remember as he picked her up and threw her in the middle with a big splash. Cold water rushed over her face as she sank deeper and deeper. She was terrified and kicked not really knowing in which direction she was going, or where she would end up. Water had rushed up her nose and her lungs burned as she held her breath untill she broke surface.
On the bank, Under her special tree was Gramps with his hands held out saying; "kick girl you can do it! Reach out those arms and pull that water under you". She did and after she found shallow water she couldn't wait to do it again. Gramps said she must have been born part fish. After that he tied a rope to a limb that hung out over the deepest part of the pond. The year she turned 10 was spent trying to find the bottom to that pond, but she never did. Gramps said it was cause it was spring fed.
This was the place that Gramps would meet her at when he was out brush hogging to have lunch. As she thought back just about everything important had either happened or been wrote about under this old oak on the banks of this old pond.
She had read her first love letter under this tree sitting right in this spot. A shelf of rocks worn smooth from years of kids sitting in the same places. Red sand stone that bore the names of past loves circled within hearts. A few even belonged to her. Her most favorite was the one that Grand Dad had made for Gram. The first time she had really noticed it was when Grams and she had went down to pick black berrys. Grams looked at it with pride in her eyes and said it would last longer than even she would. Gramps had carved it in the sand stone deep so it would never fade away. She said it had lasted just like the love she and Granddad shared. It was still deep but the stone was smooth all around its edges. It was shaped in a heart and within held their names and the date they first knew Love she said. I told her someday that I would have my name placed in just such a way with the man I would love.
She knew every inch of ground with in the 380 acres that Gramps owned. This was only one of four ponds but this was by far the best one. There were hills and valleys and the best tree's that ever grew out here. There was even a cave that She had found one summer with her Dad. At one time it belonged to some wolves but after that day it was her very special place to go. Its where she took her first sweetheart and recieved her first kiss after a day of swimming.
So many memories passed through her mind as she watched the bobber float across the waters surface. A sudden jerk and the bobber disapeared. She jerked and pulled in her first catch of the season. After another six fat blue cats she thought she should roll it all up and go back. Surely everyone would be gone by now.
As she started her walk back she looked over to the fence where the family plots were set. Yes, Everyone was leaving now. She saw the horses running, tails raised high and manes flying. A beautiful butternut brown mare stood with her foal as the father ran around his family as if to show his pride.
There would be no returning to the city this time. No leaving. Now this place was her's. Gramps had left it to her and the boys. She would be the caretaker, she would be the one that took care of Gram and Gramps down at the family plot, untill she too went to meet them. She had said all her goodbyes, but she knew that she would never say good bye to Gramps and Grams. They would always be with her. Still apart of the land that they loved so well. Now she belonged to this land and her boys would grow and see all the wonders she had. She lifted her face to the sun and wiped a stray hair from her face. Looking out over the pasture she saw her son's wave and returned it as she continued up the last few steps to the house. She was home at last.
Tina, I love the sentiment in this story but think the style is very confusing. I believe with a little work you could turn this good work into a great work. It starts out like it wants to be a poem, and later slips into prose only still using the capitalization and punctuation of the poem. In my opinion, your powerful message would be more clearly delivered if you chose one format or the other and cut some extra words.
Reviewed by Judy Lloyd
1/8/2005
Interesting and I love stories about fishing especially catfish because they are my favorite to catch. I loved this warm and homespun story.
Democratic Dilemmas and Divine Inspiration examines the significance or relevance of the idea that the U.S. Constitution was, as many believe, divinely inspired. How much did that belief matter to founders of the nation and how much does it matter no
Democratic Dilemmas and Divine Inspiration examines the significance or relevance of the idea that the U.S. Constitution was, as many believe, divinely inspired. How much did that belief matter to founders of the nation and how much does it matter no
She ran through the hot sand
