On the Farm

(The old oak tree at the front gate of my family’s farm.)

I mention my family’s farm occasionally, and now that I’m a mom, it’s become one of my favorite places to take the boys.  As a girl, I visited often with my parents and sisters,  but as I grew older, the trips down became less frequent.  I’m not the outdoor type at all, and life on a farm is all about being outside.

(Old outbuildings on the farm.)

But James and Rhys are old enough to enjoy the experience now, and we try to visit as often as we can.  This week, we headed south again, armed with plenty of hot dogs and the makings for s’mores, and spent a wonderful day in the warm sun, under the shade of the old oak trees.

(The tree in the middle of the yard, where we spend most of our time.)

This place, I now realize, is a part of me, and though it has changed drastically from the working farm of my childhood, it is still familiar and beautiful.  I feel at home there, and I know my boys do, too.  One day, they will take their children to the farm and tell them of their childhood adventures, just as I do now.

(My grandfather’s old farm truck.)

And that’s what it’s all about, I guess, on the farm.