My extended family are wonderful people and in general good cooks, so I enjoy traveling to Iowa to sample the pleasures of good company and food. Grandma and Grampa's house is different now from what it use to be. In a distance, fading past, my cousins and I would scale the walls of the old, decaying barn on the farm, feed the dogs with scraps, and climb the low branches of the maple tree near the house. Activity, motion, and noise all aptly described our play, but the pace has slacked of late. Wiffleball baseball with the younger cousins and golf were our only physical activities all weekend. This time the couch beckoned, as did a book. Yet, while the pace has lessened, the people I love are still there.
Time catches us all, and softly, seemingly blindly, carries us along a hidden path. Pay heed to the quiet chimes of the grandfather clock, for Father Time practices tough love.
No comments:
Post a Comment