I have a rule that when I with family on a trip that the scenic pictures always has a family member(s) in them. That way the scene means something later when viewed by later generations (needs name and place on back still. 😉).
However, there are times that a picture maybe taken of an object or thing without a person and to you it will mean great memories. To others without a story, it may get tossed to the wayside and why did they take that picture. I have two such pictures and will proceed to write the stories behind them for future generations to enjoy.
The first picture involves my dad and my Hero, Ned.
When we first moved to the "farm" (6.7 acres) we had a small barn, chicken pens, and a pig pen, and rabbit hutches. We were as my father-in-law put it, gentlemen farmers; meaning the Hero worked in Houston then he and my dad built stuff on the weekends. After clearing much of the brush and small trees in the back, my dad was worried of losing trees. As he was sitting next to the barn watching his chickens, he as he liked to do, he noticed a small pine seedling sprouting in the barnyard.
|Not the actual seedling, but exactly like it.|
He decided it would be a fine addition there to give shade to his critters. Picking up a stick he fashioned a stake and stuck it in the ground to protect it from foot damage so we would know it was there. The Hero thought that was a great idea too. So as the pine grew, so did the stake, thus everyone would know it was a choice tree.
40 years later both of my men are gone, but I imagine occasionally they might look down and say that is a fine tree. It turned out it is a Loblolly Pine and is beautiful. Every time I pull in at home and park, I face it. I remember the years of protecting it and the care the two men did to make sure it survived to be the tree it is now.
|Actual tree 2019, 40 years later.|
The other landscape picture is of a road going to our home. We used to call it the tunnel. Everyone knew that when we arrive at the “tunnel” that home was just a short way down the road. We loved the oaks and pines that covered the road and that you could see light at the end of the tunnel.
|As the children would say..."Almost home"...|
There were many stories about that area of the road. The the road was an iron ore road that had to be graded by a road grader.
|For my grands: a 1960s grader (like the one on our road)|
The grader would not smooth the road out after his first pass and it would leave the surface like a washboard.
|For my grands: a washboard women used to wash their clothes...remind me to tell you a story about that.|
You would drive down it and feel like your teeth were chattering. The worse time was when I was expecting my 4th child and every time we drove over it I would exclaim “slow down!” The Hero would smile or even (added injury) giggle and say won’t help. My body parts did not agree, but it was what it was…miserable. Everyone was excited when they finally decided to blacktop the road (wish I had written the date down).
The tunnel is gone now due to development. New owners decided they needed a clear view of the road, but the random picture I took one day to remind my children of home, still survives. I am so glad I took it. When they see it, they still think home. That is why there is a picture of a tree tunnel in my picture box.
Write the stories. Grandchildren will love them and they can pass them down to theirs.