I grew up with a family that took Sunday drives. Most often, it was out to see Grandma and PopPop at the farm. But, sometimes we’d go visiting someone else or maybe pack a lunch and have a picnic at one of the many “Roadside Parks” that used to dot the two-lanes around the countryside. Sunday was when you went to church, and then you went for a visit or a drive…or both. When you were really lucky, you got a nap, too!
Hubby #1 was a West Virginia boy…born and bred. We went for Sunday drives all the time…even when we lived in England. Hubby #2 was a Colorado boy and using up precious natural resources driving around with no purpose was beyond reprehensible. Mr. Virgo LOVED going for drives, but they were seldom on Sunday’s because of his work schedule. And now, Mr. FixIt…another dyed in the wool Mountaineer…is up for a drive any day of the week.
We hooked up the utility trailer midday and loaded up the mowers to head to the farm. It was 86 degrees by the time we were done. I think we hit a speed record for mowing and getting out of there. When we got home, We vacuumed the pool and put chemicals in. Then, it was time to go for a Sunday drive. We decided to go into town for carry out, then head to City Park to dine al fresco. It was downright pleasant with a breeze in the shade of the many huge trees.
When we were done, we stopped for gas then I asked…”Where to now?” First we went to visit one of the grandkids but they weren’t home. We decided to go out the road at the top of the hill not far from our house to check on the growth of the tomatoes in the high tunnels. They’re doing great…a good four feet high already. Then, when we were almost home, Mr. FixIt wanted to drive out another road to see if these people had finished building their house.
When we headed toward home, we came to a fork in the road.
“In all the years I’ve lived here, I have never been out this road.” He pointed straight ahead so that’s where we went. Another single track road with nowhere to pull off. We drove along and saw old farm houses and lush fields of hay. We hoped someone was going to mow it. There were many, many people cutting and bailing their hay this week. We finally came to a dead end and turned around. As we came to a small creek bed cutting through bedrock, I caught the familiar song of the Wood Thrush. I stopped and turned off the car and listened. There were other birds, but the Wood Thrush is what I identify most readily. It is the song of The Farm. For as long as I’ve lived, I’ve heard their sweet calls echoing through the holler up behind Grandma’s house. I do not hear them here at the house, but just a few miles away, in the dense lush West Virginia woods…there they were. I recorded them for a bit, then I just sat back and listened. What a treat!
The Song of the Wood Thrush
On our way home, we passed a beautiful field with the sun setting behind it. We found a big old houseboat looking decidedly out of place with the tall grasses growing up around it. It must have been a beauty in its day. Then, the last shot of the day was some beautiful white-faced calves laying in a field while their mamas grazed nearby. One little bull calf stood and watched his mama as if to find out if he should be worried about us. My Uncle Howard always raised white-faced cattle simply because he loved to look out his window at breakfast and see them in his field. I can see why. They are lovely creatures.
That was a wrap on the weekend. Sleeping in the camper was absolutely heavenly! I slept like a rock! Many things to accomplish this week as time is ticking away and the girls will be here before I know it!!!
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“How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity!”
Psalms 133:1 NIV