Yesterday I put on my red rubber clogs and crossed the dirt road to my brother's property. Actually I didn't want the cats to follow me so I walked through Mom's fields and down, through very tall weeds, prayed I wouldn't step in some animal's home, fell. Finally reached the dirt road.
On the way to the blueberry bushes I saw this abandoned picnic table in my brother's yard, overgrown with weeds. The table once belonged to my parents. There is also a barbecue grill, a couch torn into two sections and an old pick up truck tossed in the yard among the weeds. Did I know my brother was this sort of person? No. Guess I'm coming to know the family for real and not some imagined picture.
My brother's back 40. Well, not quite that large but pretty nice.
Through the years he has planted maybe 20 apple trees. The grove is sort of magical, mystical. A place a child would love to play or at least the child I was would have liked to play.
The berries are abundant but not yet ripe. The bushes are in the shade. I'll return soon. Yum.